


Beauty and the Beast: A Labyrinthine Retelling

by gabriellejoya



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast, F/M, Romance, Sarah kicking so much butt for the sake of being awesome (and because it pisses off the Goblin King), Seriously though guys the glitter levels in this is off the charts, all the feels, fairytale, in which the author liberally employs chapter titles because she likes them, in which the author mashes together her two favorite stories and hopes for the best, reposting from FFnet, so much glitter, villainous Jareth being villainous for the sake of it (and because of the feels)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 72,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriellejoya/pseuds/gabriellejoya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was the beast, cold and cruel, and she the beauty, trapped in his gilded cage for all eternity. Little did he know, her will was as strong as his. The tale of Beauty & the Beast entwined with Labyrinth. J/S</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

_**A humble note from the author:** _

Thank you so much for deciding to read my first official foray outside the safe and sheltered world of one-shots. (Deep-breath, here we go)

I would like to clarify some things before we embark upon this journey:

This story is set in that ever-lovely era described as "once upon a time." It isn't present day (Or rather, the eighties) as in the movie, it is sort of alternate universe. This is the story of "Labyrinth" entwined with the story of "Beauty and the Beast." I have taken liberal notes from several sources, including the books of Robin McKinley, the goddess of fairytale fiction. I could have never attempted this without her works Beauty and Rose Daughter to give me a push in the right direction when I was stuck. Please read her books, they are excellent!

"And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure" -Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling

_Enjoy_

-G

 

**March 29, 2014:**

**This was originally posted on FanFiction.net in May of 2009. I thought that I would post it here for those who can't or don't read things on FFNet. This story is in some pretty dire need of editing and updating but I unfortunately have little time to do it lately, but I shall edit the heck out of it someday! (*Gazes off wistfully into the distance, wondering what it would be like to have as much free time as one needed to do what they wanted to do* *the poor author sighs*) I'm just copy+pasting this from my old files, so please tell me if you see anything strange with the formatting or whatnot. Without much further ado, please enjoy what was my first foray into multi-chapter fics!**


	2. A Perfect Life

**Chapter 1**

_ A Perfect Life _

_“A perfect life, the kind you dream of_

_waits for me, and yet and yet_

_I can’t shut out this sense of dread, this haunting doubt._

_-“A Perfect Life” from Dracula the Musical by Frank Wildhorn_

_*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*_

 

Sarah leaned in and pressed her forehead to the smooth coolness of the window pane.  She let out a sigh as the heat that was raging over her head was soothed slightly by the glass. She tilted her head and pressed her cheek to the pane, first one, then the other.  Even though the heat was lessened externally, the window’s cold caress did nothing to abet the fire that was raging in her mind. Why had everything become instantaneously more difficult and complex? It simply wasn’t fair.

 

After all, merely a week ago, the Williams family had been one of the wealthiest shipping empires in all of Wolverston.  Robert Williams, the master of Warwick Manor was the prosperous merchant in charge of ferrying precious goods to the southern ports cities of Pembrookshire and Devon. 

 

His first wife, Linda Williams had died giving birth to his daughter, Sarah. Though Robert was overcome with grief from the loss of his wife, he did not neglect little Sarah’s upbringing. She was tutored by the best governesses that could be found.  When Sarah was 12, Robert learned what it was to love anew.  He married Karen, a kind but vain woman. She was slightly younger than he, with sandy pale hair and stormy grey eyes; a compliment to his hazel and chestnut.  Her penchant for mathematics and bookwork coupled with Robert’s knowledge of shipping routes and tradable goods created the empire upon which their family thrived.

 

Moreover, they also created a son together, christened Tobias, but fondly dubbed Toby.  He was his mother in miniature, with a blonde shock of hair, and baby blue eyes.

 

Sarah remembered the day well.  She had been organizing the books in the library and Karen was out in the garden, attempting to teach Toby how to plant vegetables.  It was spring, when all the flowers were just starting to bloom, and the days warm.

 

Sarah heard the clip-clopping of a horse in the stone courtyard, and the murmur of Karen’s voice asking an indistinguishable question to the new arrival, who sighed something in return.  Karen’s voice let out a strangled moan and started firing a volley of questions at the person.

 

At Karen’s despondent moan, Sarah had run to the window.  Her father, looking very careworn and woebegone sat astride his horse was explaining something to Karen, who was crumpled in

the garden, clutching a terrified-looking Toby. 

 

Everything was lost; the business, the home, the money, all gone in order to repay the debts that arose after the business failed.  Most of what was left over was auctioned off, the stately furniture, the fine carriages and horses, the books from the library, everything, save for a lone draft horse, a hay wagon, and some personal possessions.

 

Sarah looked around at the empty, echoing library as her reveries dissolved. At twenty-three years of age, Sarah looked every bit the part of a young woman, with startlingly green eyes and dark hair that fell down her back, free of curl or wave.

 

A trifle bit spoiled, and more than a little bratty, Sarah had grown from being daddy’s little princess in to a headstrong and fiery-tempered young woman who could be hasty in decisions, but full of love for her family.

 

But all that didn’t matter now.  Al that mattered was the future of the Williams family.  They had a week from the day they had auctioned off their belongings to move out, and the auction had been four days ago. Sarah felt completely despondent with despair and trepidation for their future. 

 

Sarah turned slightly as she heard the door to the library creak open. Her father walked in, a watery smile stretching his face.  It did not quite reach his eyes.

 

“Sarah dear, in the library still? I would have thought you’d never come in here again after all your precious books ran off to new homes.” He gave a weak chuckle and pattered her arm in the way that is innate in the nature of all fathers.

 

“Oh Papa,” Sarah turned her head up, and placed a small kiss on his temple. “I was just looking for somewhere to think.  The library seemed a fitting place.”

 

Robert cocked his head slightly, a worried look marring his mask-like attempt at composure.  “Thinking of what, m’dear?”

 

Sarah looked up at him again, despair etched across her face. Robert gave a heavy sigh and sat on the stone bench next to his daughter.

 

“Sarah, I know that this is a hard time, it is for all of us…”  He was cut off as the door opened again. Karen crept in, looking just as careworn as Robert, her sandy hair pulled back in a severe bun.

 

“Karen,” Robert breathed a sigh, “Good. You’re here.  Now we can discuss what lies ahead for our family.”

 

Sarah gave her father a quizzical look, but he just motioned for her to be quiet as he went on.

 

“As you both very well know, we need to be out of this house by Friday, a mere three days away. 

I’m sure that you both have also figured out that it would be immensely difficult for us to stay here in the city.  We can no longer live in Wolverston.  It vastly beyond our means.”  He raked his hand through his hair, his face lined with anguish.

 

“Where are we to go?”  He looked over at Karen, who stood by an empty bookshelf, her arms wrapped tightly around her body.

 

“Fear not, my love,” he tenderly responded, “I have already figured that out.”

 

Sarah sat up, her eyes wild with a trace of hope in their emerald depths. “Where?” she breathed, eyes flashing.

 

“North.”

 

The simplicity of his statement was shocking.  The word hung in the air, a hush falling across the room.

 

 _North!_ Sarah’s mind wheeled at the prospect. The adventurous part of her spirit reveled at the idea of venturing into the unknown, where fey magic still ran wild. Such thrilling tales were brought from the North; tales of epic proportions and unique curiosity. At the same time, the practical part of Sarah’s mind quailed at the thought.  There was so much uncertainty and oddity concerning the northern parts, due mostly to the presence of magic.

 

Sarah mentally made it a curse. Only those with cold hearts and keen minds were able to wield magic, and most of those people weren’t people at all, but magical beings.  Most magical beings did not live in the cities, preferring the quiet solitude that was afforded by life in the North.  Magic wasn’t so much an integral part of life in Wolverston. There were herbalists who made charms and amulets for luck and other pleasantries, and mages who worked for men of power, protecting them both physically and mentally.  There were also a handful of dwarves and elves, but such creatures were scarce in the South.  Up North, there were a vast number of magical beings: proud dragons, shrewd goblins, tricky fairies, peaceful fauns, wise centaurs, powerful fae and beasts so fantastic that no name could even begin to describe them. Up North, magic ran as free and uninhibited as a mountain stream, a fundamental part of everything and everyone.  Sarah gave a little shudder. 

 

“N-North?” Karen stuttered, looking deeply unsettled.  “B-but Robert! Where will we go in the North? Where will we live?  It isn’t safe! What will happen if we run in to a griffin, or-or a basilisk, or…”

 

“Karen,” Robert cut across her sharply, “I have it all planned out. We will go to the town of Bracknell Fen.  My great-aunt left me the deed for a cottage there when she died.  I had never paid much heed to it before, thinking it a worthless property.  Apparently the debtors thought the same.  We thankfully own that cottage.  As for your fears of the journey, it is not unduly ardous, nor is it an exorbitantly long one.  We can start a new life in Bracknell Fen, Karen, a new life!”

 

“Oh, my dear!”  Karen exhaled with a little sigh.  “All the same, what of our security?  A home

will do us no good if we are slaughtered in the night by some rouge beast as we travel.  What

about Toby?”

 

“You must have more faith in me than that, dearest.  We will leave at midday on Friday in the company of waggoners. They traverse the trail North regularly, and they are familiar with the ways of the road. The number of men will keep your beasts at bay, Karen.”

 

“Its settled then.”  Karen looked both nervous and comforted. “Well, if we are to leave on Friday, then we must start packing and gathering provisions for our journey.  Off with you two.”  Karen shooed Sarah and Robert out of the library. She gave Sarah a gentle shove in the direction of her room, while she tugged Robert over to the stairs. “Go pack your things, Sarah.  Robert, you must come help me in the kitchen.  There is so much to do…”

 

Sarah turned and trudged to her room, leaving Karen and Robert discussing the pros and cons of certain pots and pans. Terror, anticipation, fear and wonder clouded her face.  _Well Sarah, here is your marvelous, grand adventure that you have so longed for.  How quickly your life is becoming like one of your beloved books._ Sarah could hardly admit it to herself.

She was excited.

 

_*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*_

**_2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!_ **

_**2009 AN:** _ **_Ugh. I always hate the first chapter or two of a book.  They are usually the least exciting, and they are full of dense plot points.  I suppose that is what the author needs to do to get his/her characters from point A to point B. Please bear with me! The plot will pick up, and soon!_ **

**_Anyways, please leave me some of your thoughts; I very much look forward to reading them!_ **

**_Chapter Two will be up within the week!_ **


	3. Once Upon A Time

**Chapter 2**

_ Once Upon A Time _

_“There’s every sign that_

_once upon a time_

_is starting here and now.”_

_-“Angels Arise” from the musical “Tanz der Vampire”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

The journey north took a grueling three and a half weeks.

 

Sarah was nearly giddy with joy as the group slowly made its way into the town of Bracknell Fen.  After the group stopped at the drinking well to refresh their horses, Robert walked over to a nearby pub to ask directions to their cottage.  When he returned, the Williams family bid adieu to the waggoners and continued up the dusty road north of the village.

 

“Here we are,” Robert pointed, “Appledore Cottage.”

 

The cottage was nestled in a clearing, surrounded by the dark wood. Near the cottage was a small run-down stable.  Next to the cottage, on the southern side, was a vegetable garden, overrun with weeds.  The cottage itself was small, but sturdily built, if a bit weather-beaten.

 

“Oh Robert! It’s so pretty!” Karen sighed, content.

 

“It needs to be fixed up a bit,” replied Robert, “but there is no doubt in my mind that this will make a lovely home.”

 

“C’mon Sarah!” cried Toby, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards the front door. “Dibs on picking the first room!”

 

Toby shoved open the door with a mighty heave, and he and Sarah walked reverently in to the dusty cottage.  They found themselves in a large open living area, complete with a fireplace. To the left of the fireplace was a door that led in to the master bedroom, and to the right of the fireplace was a door that led into the kitchen.  Kitty-corner to the kitchen door was a set of stairs leading to the upper-level.

 

Toby let out a cry as he saw the large bed in the master bedroom, running into the room and promptly jumping onto the bed.  The bed reciprocated his excitement with a large cloud of dust that rose into the air as he jumped. 

 

“This is _definitely_ my room!” bragged Toby, now sitting on the side of the bed, his legs dangling over the edge.

 

“No it most certainly is not!” said Karen from behind Sarah.  “That’s your father and my room.

Keep looking, gosling!”

 

“Darn” muttered Toby, sliding off the bed.

 

“C’mon Tobes,” Sarah said, patting the small boy on the back. “Let’s see where these stairs go.”

 

The two of them raced up the stairs to find the small upper level of the home, which was split into two even smaller rooms.  The ceiling sloped with the planes of the roof, nearly reaching the floor as it approached the edges of the rooms.

 

“Here we go,” said Sarah encouragingly. “Take your pick Toby.”

 

The small boy paced back and forth between the two rooms, with all the seriousness of a man thrice his age.

 

“I want…THIS ONE!” Toby gave a yell as he dived into the room on the right.

 

“Good pick!” Sarah cheered after him as she walked through the door on the left to survey her room.  Her first impression was of its size.  It was much smaller than her room had been back in the city.  Pushed up against the wall was a little bed with a worn quilt covering it.  Across the room from the bed was a chest of drawers, upon which were a dusty gilt mirror and a chipped porcelain basin.  The window in the room faced out to the west, overlooking the small yard behind the house, and the dark forest beyond.

 

Sarah shivered.

 

“Ah well,” said Sarah consolingly to herself.  “At least the sun won’t blind you when you wake up in the morning. That’s something.”

 

Sarah couldn’t help but to glance out the window to the forest once again as she left the room.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The next morning, it took Sarah a few moments to realize where she was. She sighed and pulled herself out of bed.  She slipped her dress over her head and braided her hair, mentally preparing herself for a day of extreme housework.  She glanced at herself in the gilt mirror on the chest of drawers. _I’m as ready as I’ll ever be._ Satisfied, Sarah turned towards the stairs, muttering to herself.

 

“Well, c’mon feet.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah believed, as she fell into bed that night, that she had never before seen so much dust in her life.  Karen had insisted that the house be scrubbed from top to bottom. Not a cobweb or smudge of dirt missed.  All the windows and doors had been thrown open to the late summer air as Karen

swept up a duststorm, attempting to get some of the dust outside, where it belonged. Toby was

kept busy, constantly running back and forth from the well, ferrying water to the house to feed

Karen’s insatiable desire for a properly clean dwelling.

 

Sarah groaned as the tugged her hair out of her braid and struggled to her dress over her head.  She trudged over to the chest of drawers.  She splashed some water on her face from the basin to try to get rid of some of the grime.  Walking back over to her bed, Sarah got in, sighing contentedly as she snuggled deeper into the soft sheets. 

 

The last thing Sarah saw before her eyes drifted closed was the forest outside her window.  Perhaps it was her exhausted brain playing tricks on her, but Sarah half-believed that she saw a great white…something flying silently through the trees.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Chapter 2...KA-CHECK. Short but sweet. Moving the story along, expect to see a familiar face next chapter. (Not the person whom you are all hoping for, I expect, but he will come soon enough.)**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**


	4. Little Town

**Chapter 3**

_ Little Town _

_“Little town, it’s a quiet village,_

_Every day like the one before…”_

_-“Belle” from the Disney movie “Beauty and the Beast”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Sarah groaned at her sore muscles when she woke up the next morning.

 

As she emerged downstairs, her father greeted her warmly from his seat at the large oak table, a bowl of porridge streaming happily in front of him.

 

“Why, hello there Sunshine!”

 

Sarah grunted twice.  Once to her father, and once to Karen as her step-mother placed a bowl of porridge down in front of Sarah.

 

“Good morning to you too,” Karen sniffed at her.

 

Her father laughed.

 

Sarah gave a low growl and began to devour her breakfast.

 

Karen cast Sarah a disapproving glare and proceeded to set a bowl down in front of Toby and in front of her own spot at the large table.

 

All was quiet as the family ate, save for the loud slurps coming from Sarah as she finished her porridge.  Sarah threw down her spoon and looked up across the table to meet Karen’s disapproving looks.

 

“What cleaning do you have in store for me today ma’am?” Sarah quipped.

 

“Actually Sarah,” her father said, interjecting smoothly, “I was hoping that you would accompany me to town today.  There are some things that I would like to buy, and I could use your help. Plus, I think that you could use a day out.  What do you say?”

 

Sarah looked up at her father and gave him a bright smile, her unpleasant demeanor melting away at his proposition.

 

“There’s my Sarah!” Robert chuckled.  “Go get ready, princess.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Half an hour later, Sarah and her father were walking along the dusty road that let to town.

They headed first to the baker, where they bought several loaves of crisp, warm bread.  Their next destination was the blacksmith, where Robert purchased several tools, along with a new blade for the old worn plow that Toby had found behind the cottage.

 

At midday they sat in the shade of a tree in the town square, eating some of the bread they had bought that morning, along with some apples they purchased from a farmer in the little market.

 

“What do you think of town so far?” Robert asked, handing Sarah another halved apple.

 

“It's nice,” said Sarah appreciatively, “Though I haven’t seen any dragons or centaurs yet Papa.  I’m very disappointed. Whatever happened to the magic you told us about?”

 

She grinned mischievously at her father, her eyes widening with the guise of innocence.

 

“You just haven’t been looking very hard, young lady,” her father scolded her, his eyes teasing.

 

“Hmpfh.”

 

Sarah pouted, a small grin tugging at the edges of her composure.

 

“Tell you what.  Why don’t you go search for your magical creatures while I go finish shopping.  We can meet at the pub to recoup before we go home for dinner.”

 

A radiant grin spread across Sarah’s features. 

 

“All right! I think I can do just that!”

 

“Go have fun m’dear,” he kissed the top of her head as she got up from her patch of grass. “Just stay away from the handsome elves, mind you! Goodness knows Karen would never forgive me if you got tangled up with that lot! Oh—and trolls! Stay away from them as well, and…”

 

“Goodbye Papa,” said Sarah, stemming the flow of her father’s words. “I solemnly swear that I will be good!”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah wove her way up and down the narrow streets, her pockets jingling with the few copper coins her father gave her.

 

After drifting in and out of several shops, Sarah found herself in front of an Apothecary.  The shop itself was small, with a creaking sign hanging over the door, advertising the wares that were sold there.  Sarah smiled at the colorfully full flowerboxes under the windows as she opened the door, absent-mindedly rubbing her arm, intent on getting something that would soothe her housework-weary muscles.

 

A small tinkling bell announced her entrance into the hazily-lit shop. Sarah spun around slowly in a circle, taking in the assortment of small jars and drawers that lined the walls.

 

As Sarah was in the process of admiring the battalion of small purple jars that guarded the dusty windowsill, she was startled by a gruff voice behind her.

 

“What do yeh want, hmm?”

 

Sarah whirled around, but found no one else in the shop.

 

“I-I beg your pardon?” Sarah timidly called back, her hands clasped behind her back.

 

“Ungh.” The voice gave a grunt as something moved from behind the long counter that ran the length of the shop.

 

“Who’s there?” cried Sarah wildly, taking a hasty step back as a short creature emerged into her view.

 

“Me,” said the squat creature, raising his very bushy eyebrows, “and who would yeh be?”

 

“Sarah.”

 

“That’s what I thought,” said the creature dismissively, moving to scoop some flaxseed from a large barrel by the door.

 

“You-you’re a dwarf!” stammered Sarah, with a note of excited hysteria in her voice.

 

“Was when I woke up this mornin', an’ the mornin' afore that too.” He stuck out a grimy hand towards her. “Hoggle,” he said tersely, as she grasped his hand.

 

“I’m sorry, but I’ve never actually met a magical creature before,” breathed Sarah, her eyes taking in all the details of the dwarf.

 

“Now yeh have.” 

 

Hoggle hobbled over to a wall of drawers and scooped something into the little paper bag that already held the flaxseed he had retrieved from by the door. Sarah watched him, fascinated as he worked his way around the room, adding a pinch of this, and a dash of that to his small bag.  When he was done, he folded up the bag into a neat little packet, tying it closed with some twine. 

 

“Was there something' yeh wanted, missy?”

 

Sarah started, her mind returning to the present.

 

“Oh!” Sarah gasped, realizing that she had been staring.  “Yes! Do you have something that would help ease sore muscles, you see--”

 

“Yup,” Hoggle interrupted, jumping down from his stool.  He moved swiftly around the room once more, adding ingredients to a new little bag.

 

“Here.” He thrust a little packet into Sarah’s hands. “Put this in yer tea, and yeh’ll feel good as new.”

 

“Thanks.” Sarah gave him a true smile, the pain in her muscles easing at the thought of the little packet in her hands.  “How much do I owe?”

 

The dwarf looked at Sarah for a moment, his shrewd eyes staring at her intently.

 

“You? Nuffink.”

 

“But I--,” Sarah began.

 

“I like talkin' to yeh. Yer not like the other ladies in town. Ruddy pumpkinheads. Turnin' up their noses when they see me, demanding silly love potions and powders for their faces…yer different.”

 

“Thanks…I guess,” Sarah replied, bemused.

 

_Different. This dwarf hardly knows me and he can already tell._

Sarah jumped as a bell began to toll outside, announcing the hour.

 

“Oh no!” she moaned, looking wildly around, “I don’t believe it! Its five-o-clock! I’m late!”

 

Sarah dashed to the door before turning to face the dwarf.

 

“Thank you ever so much, Hoggle! You don’t know how much this packet will help!”

 

Hoggle grunted and called out after her.

 

“Uhh…yeh should come back an’ visit sometime.”

 

He gave a blush and swirled his toe in the dirt as Sarah called back over her shoulder.

 

“Of course! Goodbye Hogwart!”

 

“Oooh!” Hoggle moaned through his teeth, before stamping back in to the shop with an air of annoyance.  “It’s Hoggle!”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 **2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**  

**2009 AN: Sorry that I didn’t get this up last weekend like I said that I would! I’ve been pretty busy! I’m starting my summer job tomorrow, and I’ve had to drive downtown twice to go to my meetings!**

**Anyways! Yeah! Hoggle! I tried to imitate his quirky way of speaking in the book and the movie, with a dash of Hagrid thrown in!**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or is watching my stories! I really appreciate it! (Also, thanks to everyone who has visited my DeviantArt account to see my Laby stuff!) I’m glad that you guys are still in for the ride!**

**Next chapter (Ch 4) is going to introduce some new characters, along with some mythology/backstory! I have 6 more Chapters typed out in rough form on my computer right now, which will take us to the end of Part 1 of this story (Ch 6 turned out to be so epic that I split it in to 2 parts for continuity and length’s sakes).   I think that I will be posting on a weekly basis, which will be better than my current “whenever” posting.**

**Chapter 4 coming this weekend!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 

 


	5. The Truth in Legends

**Chapter 4**

_ The Truth in Legends _

_“He can change his shape; a wolf, a fox, a bat._

_He commands the mist and the storm._

_He can fly like eagle, or crawl like sewer-rat,_

_before he assumes his own form…_

_The point is that the legend is true.”_

_-“Nosferatu” from “Dracula, the Musical” by Frank Wildhorn_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah slowed from her sprint as she neared the pub, smoothing down her hair, and patting the dust from her skirt.

 

She entered the bar, glancing around until she found her father, sitting at a large table, and surrounded by a gaggle of people.  As she walked over to him, he caught sight of her, smiled, and proudly announced “Ah! Here we are! My daughter, Sarah.”

 

Sarah gave an awkward curtsey and murmured a polite hello to the people sitting round the table.

 

“My, my, my Robert! What a lovely daughter you have,” said a short plump woman with ruddy cheeks. “Rosie’s m’name. I’m the barkeep of this here establishment.  Would you like anything to drink, dear?”

 

“Water would be nice,” replied Sarah as Rosie gestured over at the bar.

 

“Sarah, I’d like to introduce you to some of the townsfolk I’ve met.” Robert said. He started pointing out various people sitting around the table.

 

“This is Murgon, Rosie’s husband.” He pointed to a burly, dark-haired man who nodded at her.

 

“Brayden, the blacksmith.” A tall man with muscular thickset shoulders raised his arm.

 

“…Christine.” A young woman with brown ringlets smiled and giggled at Sarah.

 

“…Lettie, Doyle, Edmund the baker, Ginevra, Alberdore, and Desmond.”

 

At the last name, a young man smiled a Sarah, giving her a roguish wink.

 

Sarah blushed, and curtseyed again. 

 

“It’s so nice to meet you all.”

 

Sarah sat down next to her father as the townsfolk resumed the conversation they were having before she had arrived.

 

“What were you saying about the farmer from Greystock, Brayden?” Murgon turned to the blacksmith, furrowing his brows.

 

“Well, he was in my shop not two days ago,”  the man rumbled, lifting his hand to show two of his fingers raised, “and he told me about how they are having problems in Greystock with the devious cretins from the forest.”

 

Rosie addressed Brayden as she sat back down at the table, passing Sarah a mug of water. “You don’t mean…”

 

“Yeah.” The burly man cut her off, a dark look passing over his face.  “Goblins.”

 

Shocked whispers sped round the table.

 

Christine grabbed Doyle’s arm, letting out a little squeak.

 

“Goblins!” murmured Sarah wonderingly, “They really do exist, then?”

 

“Of course they do.” Brayden gave her a stern look. “Wickedly cunning, despicable creatures, they are.”

 

Those huddled round the table nodded and murmured fervently in agreement.

 

“Having those foul creatures rear their dastardly little heads is a sore portent indeed,” lamented Doyle.

 

“Why?” asked Sarah, her head leaned in to better hear the townsfolk at the table.

 

“There is much that you and your family do not know about Bracknell Fen, young miss, much you would do well to learn.”

 

Doyle nodded his head at the old man sitting at the far end of the table.  The man sat half in shadow, his snowy white beard cascading down his chest, a pipe stuck firmly in his mouth.

 

“Alberdore, your memory stretches farther than any of ours. You should tell.”

 

The old storyteller sat up, coming into the firelight, and pulled the long-stemmed pipe from his mouth.

 

“Very well,” Alberdore sighed, exhaling a puff of blue smoke.

 

“Bracknell Fen is one of the oldest townships up here in the North. It is also one of the most remote, thanks to the forest’s dark reputation.”  He gave a humorless chuckle.

 

“Whilst our lives here are quiet and peaceful, this is only so because of our precautions and our knowledge.”

 

Sarah gave a small shiver and grasped her father’s hand, who returned the gesture with a calm pat.

 

“Goblins are indeed real.  Magic and magical creatures are more real and more prominent than you would think. While some magical creatures have proved themselves worthy of intermingling with humans in everyday life, dwarves, fauns, elves and such like, others have not.  These dark creatures--dragons, sphinxes, basilisks, goblins, et cetera, have strong old magic running though their blood, making them stronger, faster, and more cunning than others of their kind.”

 

Alberdore gave a little sigh and shook his head.

 

“It also means that they are the most dangerous.  They have sequestered themselves away from human contact for centuries, sneering at what they see as an inferior race.  Their hatred, left to fester for years on end, has resulted in tension from both sides.  Whenever they decide to come out hiding, crops are destroyed, villages are burned, and people are forced to move.

 

“We are only able to keep the peace here in Bracknell Fen because we stay out of their territory. We don’t meddle in their affairs, and they return the gesture.”

 

He paused, taking a deep pull from the pipe in his hand. Blue smoke drifted from his lips as he continued.

 

“Whilst goblins are not the strongest creature, nor the smartest, they make up for their lack of muscle and common sense with the strength of their demented wit.  They are like roaches, small, indestructible…”

 

“They steal children,” whispered Lettie, grasping Christine’s arm, “They come in the night and spirit them away!” She gave a small moan and clung harder to her friend.

 

“And now, Greystock has angered them in some way.  The goblins will wreak havoc with their devious mischief.” Brayden concurred, nodding.

 

“Why can’t you fight back?” asked Robert, looking round at the men. “You said that their strength was not great.  Why doesn’t a hunting party go into the forest and try to forcefully reason with them or…”

 

“Reason with them,” Edmund scoffed, “There be no reasoning with goblins.”

 

“We do not venture into the forest. That be the dwelling place of the goblins and creatures such as them.”

 

Alberdore’s voice came from a haze of pipe smoke obscuring his form. “But it is not only because of the magical creatures. There is an additional evil in the forest, deeper, darker, and more wickedly powerful than any dragon, griffin, or sphinx. None ventures into the forest unless they wish for a most gruesome death.”

 

“What kind of evil?”

 

Robert sat up a bit straighter, his eyes boring into Alberdore’s.

 

“Some say tis a terrible beast that roams the forest, his insatiable hunger leading him to prey on anything and everything that dares to cross his path…” began Desmond.

 

“No, a foul spirit, angered by the gods of old…” Edmund cut off, waving his hand at Desmond as if to wave his supposition from the air.

 

“…A huge, white-winged creature…”

 

“…The unholy spawn of a sphinx and a dragon--ultimate cunning and strength, you see…”

 

“…A great and mighty goblin, greater and mightier than a normal goblin, master of the cretin who now terrorizes those in Greystock…”

 

“…Tisn’t a corporeal being at all! Tis wild magic that has found a mind of its own…”

 

“…a terrible magician, bound under some Faustian oath…”

 

“…a woman dressed in white, with the lure of a siren and the wrath of a banshee…”

 

Robert gave a small cough, which gave an end to the wild speculation running rampant at the table.

 

“My daughter and I thank you for your wise words and company, but it seems wise that we be getting home before it is dark, especially in the wake of your tales of the creatures in the forest.”

 

“A most wise decision.”  Rosie gave a little nod.

 

“Please do come back sometime, Miss Sarah,” Desmond gave her a saucy grin as she rose from the table to join her father, “There is still so much you do not know as of yet.  I would be pleased to tell you.”

 

“I shall,” said Sarah, blushing slightly at the young man’s attentions, “Perhaps I will bring my little brother along as well.  He loves stories.”

 

“Farewell Monsieur Robert, Miss Sarah”  Brayden nodded at them.

 

They were to the door when Alberdore called out. 

 

“Remember this: Stay out of the forest. Tis more dangerous than you may realize as of yet.”

 

And with that, the two Willamses strode out into the deepening twilight, set upon a most agreeable destination: home.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Yeah! Another chapter! ( I am just as excited to post chapters as you guys are to read them!) I am so happy to be getting out of the exposition, and to finally be getting in to some plot and characters other than Sarah and her family.  Expect more legends next time, in Chapter 5: “Existing”.**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**A note on the names of characters:**

**The name Lettie is a nod to “Howl’s Moving Castle,” Christine is a nod to “Phantom of the Opera,” Edmund is a nod to Narnia, Ginevra and Alberdore (Albus and/or Aberforth+Dumbledore) nods to “Harry Potter,” and Desmond is a nod to the awesome TV show “LOST.”   The rest of them, I just made up.  I was stuck while trying to find names, so I just walked over to my bookshelves and started to pick names from books and DVDs. It worked wonderfully!**

**Please read and review! It helps me tinker with the story, “preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices (and plotlines!) that ought to be prohibited.” (HP-OotP, with a little commentary from me!)**


	6. Existing

**Chapter 5**

Existing

_“Yes, he existed in flesh and blood,_

_although he assumed the complete_

_appearance of a real ghost;_

_a true phantom.”_

_- The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The first month of the Williamses self-imposed exile to Bracknell Fen proved to be riddled with fewer hardships than they had originally supposed.

 

Thanks to Karen’s keen desire for perfection and her aversion to dust, Appledore Cottage had transformed from a dusty, disused dwelling in to a true home.

 

Robert had managed to mend the stables, which housed not only Greatheart, but also a newly acquired fawn-colored milk cow and a miniature battalion of chickens.

 

Their misfortunes of that late summer were small, few, and far-between.

 

During a particularly vicious late-August storm, Toby found that he had positioned his bed squarely under the weakest spot in the roof.  He consequentially spent all night very damp and very cold from the drips of water that streamed in through the thatched roof.

 

Karen found that a small family of bushy-tailed squirrels had set up camp in her linen closet, deciding that its soft warmth was the perfect place for their wintry hibernation.  Once her initial shock had subsided, she spent a good portion of the afternoon shooing the squirrels out of the cottage, cleaning anything in her path.

 

Robert, asserting his role as patriarch and bread-winner of the family, decided that his family needed more than just a small, but undoubtedly bountiful, vegetable garden to appease their voracious appetites, (due mostly to Toby). He cleared and cultivated a patch of land behind the stables, planting a variety of plants and crops, only to find that the neighborhood crows had voracious appetites of their own.

 

The second time he planted, Robert made sure to also plant a truly fearsome scarecrow in his garden.

 

The only one seemingly free of petty troubles was Sarah, who had spent a good portion of her time in town with Hoggle.  During the many days Sarah had spent at the apothecary’s shop, Hoggle had introduced her to his (equally magical) friends.

 

Her first new acquaintance was Ludo, a terrifyingly large and ferocious-looking beast who worked in the brick-layer’s yard. (The creature had a curious relationship with stone.)  Sarah soon learned not to be deceived by appearances, though, for Ludo was a harmless as a kitten, loveable and sweet.

 

Her second acquaintance was yet another curious creature, who gallantly introduced himself as “Sir Didymus, milady.”  A tad compulsive, and prone with bouts of hyper-activity, he and his trusty dog-steed Ambrosias were part of the city guard.

 

Sarah passed her time at the shop helping Hoggle with his potions, tonics and powders, while telling him and the others stories of her old home in the city.  They, in return, told her of the history and legends of Bracknell Fen and the North.

 

On one particular day in mid-September, while Sarah was helping Hoggle with a complex healing tonic for the captain of the guard, Sarah decided to ask her motley crew of friends about something that had been weighing on her mind since she had first arrived in Bracknell Fen.

 

“Hoggle,” Sarah asked, absent-mindedly crushing dried lacewing flies into a fine powder. “Tell me about the forest.”

 

She scooped up some of the powder and carried over to where Hoggle was measuring out some golden liquid into a small jar with marks on it. He paused, a thoughtful look on his face as he turned to Sarah.

 

“The Forest?”

 

Sarah nodded as she handed him the powder.

 

“When I first came here, some of the townsfolk told my father and I about it. Other than warning us to stay out of there, the only other thing they could tell us was that there is some kind of evil residing there, though there was quite a debate as to what this evil was supposed to be. Some said that it was the offspring of a dragon and a sphinx, while others asserted that it was the master of the goblins, larger and mightier than the rest. Another man was absolutely certain that it was some formless monster who roamed…”

 

Hoggle grunted and set down his beaker. 

 

“All codswallop and bung in my opinion.  None of those ain’t what’s in there.”

 

“How do you know?” Sarah asked.

 

“We be eldritch creatures, milady,” Didymus called imperiously from his perch down the long counter, “Our lives and the lives of our kin be long, and our memory runs deep and true.”

 

“Twuuth!” Ludo rumbled, from the floor, like some giant furry rug.

 

“Yeh see missy,” Hoggle said, turning to Sarah, “we know what’s really there, hidin’ in the dark.”  He gave a self-satisfied sniff and carried on, “Humans are prone to such exaggeration.”

 

“Tell me!”

 

Sarah let out an excited cry, her hands clasped, her attention fixed squarely upon the dwarf.

 

“Tis no dragon nor sphinx causing such fear…tis…a man.”

 

“…A _man_?” Sarah interrupted Hoggle, her question dripping with skepticism. Her eyebrows rose.

 

“Hush. Well, he ain’t really a man.  Not quite.  He’s much more dangerous than that. He’s one of them damnedable fae.”

 

“A fae!” Sarah’s voice dropped its skeptical veneer, taking on a note of hysteria.

 

“Yes. A fae.  And I’ll thank yeh to keep quiet. Yeh wanted me to tell yeh about the forest, an’ that’s what I’m gonna do, ‘cept yeh keep interruptin’ me!”

 

Sarah mimed sealing her mouth shut, locking it with an invisible key. She folded her hands neatly in her lap, her eyes begging him to continue on.

 

“Like I said, a fae, damned powerful and wicked cunnin’. They be some of the oldest magical beings, seeing as they are bloody near immortal themselves. Their strength of wit and tongue are doubly matched by their strength in wielding magic.  That’s part of what makes beings such as fae so dangerous.”

 

He gestured first at himself, and then at Ludo and Didymus.

 

“While we be magical creatures as well, we only posses a tiny fraction of what beings such as fae have.  Yeh see,” he picked up his nearly-finished concoction and gave the bottle a little shake, “I am perfectly capable of makin’ little potions and such, but that’s about the extent of me magical prowess.  Most of us are more proficient in some little area or another, like me and my apothecary, an’ Ludo with his rocks.”

 

He shook his head.

 

“But fae…fae be good at all magiks, good and bad.”

 

Sarah sucked in a small breath, internally vowing never to any nearer to the forest than was absolutely necessary, so that she would have less of a chance of running into such beings.

 

“This particular fae, however, surpasses the rest of his kind, in all respects. He’s got cruelty and evil melded in his soul.  A heart black an’ hard as coal.”

 

Hoggle spat, as though the thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

 

“What’s more, he’s royalty among fae, blood runnin’ thick with the deepest and most pure fey magic.”

 

“It’s said that he be under a terrible curse, cast by an enchantress. It is not clear how he offended her, but it must have been truly terrible, for he can’t remove the curse, even with his own powerful magic.”

 

Hoggle strode over to the window, looking out to the street outside where a sliver of the dark  forest could be seen between the shops.

 

“He lives deep in them wood in a great castle guarded by his mysterious Labyrinth. The goblins be under his rule, his bloody minions.”

 

He finished the potion he was working on, pouring it into a small glass flask, corking it and sealing the cork with red wax. He turned once more to Sarah.

 

“He be dead tricky, especially with his words.  Yeh could be sayin’ somthin’ half-way normal like ‘pass the peas’ an’ he twists it so yeh are turned inteh one of his smelly goblins. That’s how the goblins are able to take babies.  Wished away, they are.  Nanny or sister gets frustrated with them, says somethin’ not very nice, an’ well--”

 

He spread his arms wide in a shrug.

 

“What’s said is said.”

 

“That’s all he does?” Sarah asked, confused. “Steal babies? That’s the root of the villager’s fears? A rouge babynapper?”

 

“He doesn’t steal babies.  I told yeh, they be wished away to him.  An’ no, its not just the babynapping. Like I said, he’s mighty powerful. All kind of strange an’ dangerous creatures be livin’ in his ‘ol Labyrinth.”

 

Hoggle gave a little shudder.

 

“He lures wayward travelers and huntsmen inteh his Labyrinth when he wants some amusement.  Turns inta a big ‘ol bloody owl an’ sorta…brings ‘em in.  Then he watches ‘em try to solve his Labyrinth. Many have supposedly gone in. None of ‘em have ever come back out.”

 

Sarah shivered. 

 

“Well then,” Sarah gave a valiant attempt a bravado, “I suppose that _is_ more frightening than some dragon or smoke monster living in the forest.”

 

“Dragons are no match for me, milady!” Didymus cried valiantly. “If this king were merely a dragon, why, I would’ve slain the foul beast long ago, ridding the village of the shadow of his foul presence.” 

 

Didymus swished his rapier through the air to bolster his statement.

 

Sarah gave a weak smile. 

 

“I’m sure you would have, Didymus.” Sarah then got up off the ground with a determinedly decided air, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress.  “Well, I’d best be off.  Thanks for your story, Hoggle.”

 

“It ain’t no story, Sarah,” said Hoggle seriously, giving her an intensely stern look, “It’s the truth.  Take care that you remember that. Stay away from the forest.”

 

“ ‘An owwwwllls” Ludo whined.

 

“I promise.  No haunted forests, owls or goblins for me,” Sarah intoned, placing one hand over her heart, a smile tugging at her lips.

 

Hoggle muttered as Sarah left the shop, waving at her friends.

 

“See that yeh keep that promise.”

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

 **2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly.** **Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Another weekend, another chapter! I need to get writing on Part 2! I only have 4 more pre-written chapters left! I wonder if there are any LOST fans that caught the smoke monster reference in this chapter?  (I just bought season 4 on DVD, and have been watching it…I figured that Smoky needed to make an appearance.)**

**Thanks for all of you guys who have read and/or reviewed my story so far! It really makes my day to know that people are reading this story, (and perhaps even liking it!).  The next chapter (Ch6 ) is split in to 2 parts, because of its epicness.**

**Also--check out my DeviantArt profile (link in my FFnet profile) to see my Labyrinth stuff, including a replica of Jareth’s Necklace, Sarah’s headpiece from the ball, and 2 versions of the Labyrinth book (version 2 mirrors the book in the movie).  Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**


	7. Think of Me

**  
Chapter 6  Part 1**

Think of Me

_“Think of me, think of me fondly,_

_When we’ve said goodbye._

_Remember me, once in a while,_

_Please promise me you’ll try.”_

 

_-“Think of Me” from the musical “The Phantom of the Opera”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The last remaining tendrils of summer finally lessened their hold as the end of September neared.

 

The week that had transpired had been fairly uneventful.  Sarah had freed the little cottage garden of a particularly fierce infestation of crabgrass and dandelions, and had visited Hoggle and the others several more times, discussing everything from the forest again, to centaurs, paving rocks, quests, and sleeping draughts.

 

As Sarah was leaving Hoggle’s shop one day (after a particularly lengthy debate over whether sea dragons were fiercer than land dragons), she was hailed as she passed by the pub by none other than the establishment’s good lady herself, Rosie.

 

“Oh Sarah!!! SARAH!” Rosie waved frantically at Sarah, a thick yellow letter in her hand, “This just came for your father!  A horseman from Wolverston came tearing up the road and handed this to me in the pub.  He said that it was of the upmost importance, and that we were to give it to your father as soon as possible.”

 

Rosie halted at Sarah’s side, bent and gasping, to catch her breath.

 

“Do you have any idea what it is about? Did the messenger say anything?” Sarah asked, her heart pounding.

 

“Not a bloody clue.  Hurry home child, and give it to your father! Go!”

 

Sarah gave Rosie a smile as the woman handed her the letter.  As soon as the letter touched her hand, Sarah turned around and tore up the road, her skirts hiked up, the letter clutched desperately in her hand.

 

When Sarah arrived home, she burst through the front door of the cottage, hardly slowing from her trot.  Karen gave a loud squawk and dropped the tea that she had been about to drink.

 

“Sarah! What on earth--”

 

“Where is papa?” cried Sarah, “I have a letter for him, sent from the city! Rosie said that it was important!”

 

Karen paled slightly as she began to shriek. “Robert? Robert dearest, where are you?...ROBERT!”

 

He ran in through the kitchen door, an axe in one hand, and a large tree branch in the other. 

 

“Wha--”

 

Karen cut him off.

 

“You have a letter from the city!”

 

Karen began to fan herself, falling dramatically into a chair.

 

Sarah thrust the letter at her father.  He took it, breaking the wax seal on the blade of his axe.

 

The kitchen fell silent as Robert read the letter, his eyes skimming back and forth as he read down the page.

 

“Well?” Karen squeaked, her voice timid. “What is it about?”

 

“It’s from the Port-Master.  He says that one of the ships I lost has made berth in Wolverston.  The crew and ship are in rough condition, but apparently there may be some precious cargo that the crew was able to salvage.”

 

He gave his head a little shake.

 

“They were caught in a monsoon.”

 

Robert gave a little pause.

 

“I must go to Wolverston at once so I can sort this all out.  We may be able to build that henhouse that you wanted, Karen, from the money that we may get from selling off the goods and the ship.”

 

His eyes shone with an excited frenzy.

 

“Karen, will you help me pack?” 

 

She nodded and left the room at a quick pace, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

 

“Sarah. Will you go saddle the horse, please? ”

 

She looked up at her father, his eyes twinkling down at her.  “It looks like things are finally taking a turn for the better.”

 

He gave her a small kiss on the forehead as she rose from the table, and drifted out to the stables.

 

Dusty shafts of late-afternoon light streamed in through the planks of the stable roof.  Sarah wove her way into the stable, stepping carefully to avoid any of the chickens that were now clucking noisily at her, dashing hither and thither between her legs. Sarah reached the horse’s stall and patted the creature’s large, warm nose.  The horse nickered softly in response, pressing his nose into her palm as she slowly petted his velvety cheek.

 

“Keep Papa safe, Greatheart. Don’t stray off the road.  Keep away and goblins and owls, will you? I’m so frightened for his safety, after what Hoggle and the others told me…”

 

Greatheart nickered again, and she laughed, kissing his nose before saddling him.

 

She led the draft horse to the front of the cottage, where Karen and Toby were already waiting.  Robert stepped out of the house, swinging a heavy cloak over his shoulders.  He packed his things in the saddlebags before kissing Karen, who tearfully wrapped a scarf around his neck.

 

Robert bent down and pulled his son into a great hug, Toby’s feet dangling as he hugged his father back. Robert sat Toby back down on the ground, ruffling the boy’s sandy hair. 

 

Sarah threw herself into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly.

 

“Be careful, Papa!” Sarah whispered, her eyes shut tight.

 

Her father stepped back from her and smiled.

 

“I will,” he replied, tapping her nose with his forefinger.  “I promise.”

 

Robert clambered up into the saddle, patting Greatheart’s neck as he started down the road, turning to wave at his family as he passed out of sight behind the trees.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly.  Also, I have no idea why I got into the habit of splitting chapters into two parts. I'll post them apart for the sake of keeping with the formatting I had back then. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: This is Part 1 of chapter 6, as you may have very well noticed, short, sweet, and to the point.  This is mostly set up for the next three chapters, which will bring us to the end of PART 1 of this story!  I am super excited for the next part of this chapter (Ch 6 was so long I had to split it into 2 parts. Part 2 is considerably longer and *ahem* the plot is kicked up quite a few notches!)**

**Thanks to all of you who have left me reviews! It helps me in so many ways! Thanks!**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 


	8. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Chapter 6: Part 2**

Curiouser and Curiouser

_“'Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice_

_(she was so much surprised, that for the moment_

_she quite forgot how to speak good English)”_

 

_- Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Caroll_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert sighed wearily as he left the inn where he had been staying during his stay in Wolverston. The ship the letter had spoken of had indeed been his, but the ship was absolutely and completely beyond repair. The goods on the ship had been sold, a portion of the gold going to the crewmen’s salary, the rest into Robert’s pocket.   He sighed again as he passed out of the city gates on his horse, nodding at the city guards as he left.

 

Robert looked at the long road ahead of him, disappearing into the misty horizon. Weary, but ready to be home, he determinately spurred his horse on.

 

After two weeks of heavy travelling, Robert started to recognize the forest that surrounded the worn dirt path he trekked. _I’m getting closer to home!_ His mood instantly brightened, and he jovially patted Greatheart’s neck with a chuckle, his cheer blinding him to the ominous clouds that were building in the eastern sky.

 

As dusk began to fall, so did the snow, whirling down in puffs of white, stinging Robert’s face with their icy touch, and impeding his vision. He did not know how much longer he travelled, or even if he was going in the right direction. All that mattered was that he was nearly home, nearly to his family.  Robert shivered as the cold seeped into his bones, his brain going slightly fuzzy because of the chill.  Rocking with the motion of the saddle, he felt strangely content and comfortable, his eyes fluttering closed, head nodding off to sleep.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

When Robert awoke the next morning, Greatheart was no longer moving along the forest path to Bracknell Fen. The horse was munching away happily at some snow-dusted thistle, uttering soft whinnies of pleasure and contentment as he ate.

 

Robert blinked again, sleep and the glaring white of the snow blinding him momentarily.  He looked around to gather his bearings.  They seemed to be in a small clearing in the middle of the woods.  The path to Bracknell Fen was nowhere in sight. Robert twisted agitatedly around in the saddle, looking behind him.

 

Robert gasped.

 

There behind him was a tall, snow-covered stone wall.  The yellow stone was cracked and chipped, draped in dried vines and leaves.  Set into the solid wall were a set of large wooden doors, on which were carved strange figures and cryptic designs.

 

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Robert murmured, pulling Greatheart around, heading towards the doors.  The doors, seemingly of their own accord, swung obligingly open as the two approached.

 

The beast and the man passed through the strange doors, gazing around at the sight that lay behind the ominous portal. 

 

There was no way forward, only a long corridor stretching far to the right and to the left.  While the lost pair contemplated this, the doors swung shut behind them with a hollow boom. Robert jumped in his seat as Greatheart nervously trampled the leaf-strewn ground.

 

“Well, it looks as though we’re stuck here now…let’s see just where you’ve led us now, you great silly beast.”

 

Robert pulled on the reigns, directing Greatheart down the passage to the right.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert did not know how long they had been travelling, nor had he found a way out of the strange maze he had stumbled upon.  The sun had drifted high into the sky as the straight corridor he had started out in had given way to a veritable mess of twists and turns, made of the same yellow rock.

 

Robert sighed.

 

 _Curiouser and curiouser indeed_ he cursed. _What a stupid thing to say.  Now you’re lost, just like Alice._

Growling as he turned down yet another path, he found that he was looking at yet another dead end.  Sighing, Robert turned Greatheart around, only to find that he was staring at a solid stone wall.

 

“Damnation!” Robert fumed, twisting back around, only to see that his dead end had turned into another passage.  This damnedable maze was taking it upon itself to move around and make it more difficult. It just wasn’t fair!

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert and Greatheart wandered on and on, the yellow stone giving way to tall hedges of green.  As they turned yet again from a dead end, Robert stopped dead, listening to the sounds of scuffling and grunting coming from the other side of the hedge.

 

“Meesa hungry!” cried one of the faceless creatures in a shrill voice, “Meesa want foods!”

 

“Shuddup!” another growled at the first.

 

Robert heard a sound like a fist being brought down on steel.

 

“Owchie!”

 

“Dat’s whatcha get fir bein’ hungree!”

 

Robert peered carefully around the hedge, wary of remaining undetected by the owners of the voices.  His first impression was of small, dirty grey creatures, clad in rusty armor, with leering grins and bulbous eyes.

 

_Goblins!_

 

Robert shrank back as the small battalion passed by.

 

“Meesa still hungree. Lets hurwee back to da castle.”

 

“Owchie!”

 

 _A castle!_ Robert thought, as his stomach rumbled, _With food none the less! Perhaps there is a master to this castle who can help me find my way home to my family…_

Without a second thought, Robert and Greatheart ghosted behind the goblins, the soft, wet dirt muffling the horse’s hooves.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

He saw the flags flying from the battlements of the castle first.

 

As he drew nearer, more and more of it was exposed to his vision; Turret upon turret, wing up on wing, peak upon cornice upon tower.

_Surely the goblins don’t live here._ Robert thought, glancing once more at the sumptuous view before him.

 

Robert waited as the goblins ran across the stately lawn into a side door of the castle.  A few minutes later, the goblins reappeared, carrying sacks of what Robert supposed was food. He watched as the goblins scurried to the north end of the great lawn, where the forest met the well-kept lawns, disappearing into what seemed to be a miniature, goblin-sized fortress.

 

Robert waited a little longer, his instinct warning him to stay still for just a few more moments, in case some stray goblins decided to dash across the lawn as he was nearing the castle.

 

Deciding that he had waited long enough, Robert urged his horse forward once more through the iron gates, right up to the stairs of the castle. Unease settled deep inside his chest as he dismounted, climbing up the marble steps to the great wooden doors.

 

With his heart in his throat and a hand that did not seem to belong to him, Robert reached out and pushed open the heavy doors, stepping into the grand foyer that lay inside.

 

“H-hello? Is there someone here? I’ve lost my way and I am so desperately tired and hungry…” he called out.  “Hello?” Robert called out again, louder this time. He shook his head, but stopped, his mouth dropping open as he beheld the beauty of the castle. Robert came out of his reverie as his stomach rumbled again.  Blinking, Robert looked around, trying to decide which would be the best route to get to the kitchens.

 

Suddenly, a door swung open to his left, soft, flickering light spilling out onto the parquet floor.  Robert walked slowly over to the door, peering into the room before entering. He decided that he had walked into some kind of sitting room, a fire crackling merrily in the gigantic hearth, ornate furniture placed tastefully around the room.

 

As his survey of the room came back to the fireplace, Robert was startled to find that a table set for one had appeared on the hearthrug.

 

“Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?”

 

Robert was truly puzzled. _What kind of witchcraft was this?_   He shook his head, and sat down gingerly at the table and started to eat. Once he had eaten his share, Robert looked around and found that a couch that he had previously overlooked was made into a bed, complete with feather pillows and soft blankets.

 

Without a second thought, Robert removed his boots and his cloak, and lay down on the soft couch, sighing softly.  He was asleep before his head had touched the pillow.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

When Robert awoke the next morning, he found that his worn boots and patched cloak had been replaced sometime during the night.  Fine new boots and a dashing wool cloak were in their place.  Not only that, but his mysterious benefactor had laid out food for him once again on the small table before the fire.  Robert ate quickly and bundled up again.

 

As he left, Robert uttered a quiet “Thank you” to the still room.

 

Outside, Greatheart was munching at some hay that had been placed before him in a trough at the foot of the stairs, with a plaid blanket thrown over his back.

 

Robert patted the horse’s nose, who nickered in return. After folding up the blanket and draping it over the empty hay trough, Robert mounted his horse, murmuring yet another “Thank you.”

 

As the two turned to travel down the gravel path that led back to the maze, a flash of color caught Robert’s eyes. He dismounted and walked the few yards over to the rosebushes that graced the large gardens, a riot of color and soft petals.

 

 _How on earth are there roses still blooming this late in the year,_ he marveled, reaching out involuntarily to stroke their silken petals. Without thinking, Robert broke the stem of a large red bloom, the flower falling gracefully into his palm.

 

Without warning, the wind started to howl, the air seeming to buzz and crackle with electricity.  A great white owl gave a terrifying shriek as it dove over Robert’s head, its sharp talons missing his scalp by inches.  Frightened, Robert crouched and whirled around, rose in hand, as a large black shadow fell upon him.

 

A billowing, black-clad figure rose up imperiously before him, its arms crossed and eyes flashing.  Robert stared back in horror as the thing’s mismatched eyes bored cruelly into his.

 

Robert fell back a step, scrambling backwards as he stammered:

 

“W-who are y-you?”

 

The figure surveyed Robert distastefully, its eyes narrowing in ill-concealed fury as they fell upon the lush rose still clutched in Robert’s hand.

 

“I?” The cloaked form replied, in a terrible voice that stung like ice, “ I am the Goblin King.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Oh pooh. I ended just as things were getting mighty interesting, didn’t I? (And just as a certain someone _finally_ made his appearance!)**

**Yes, there is a discrepancy with the snow being in the forest, but not in the Labyrinth or the castle. I decided to once again take a leaf out of Robin McKinley’s book and implement magically-controlled weather, like in her book “Beauty.”  (OR-- it could just be like weather here in Montana, blizzard in the morning, and 80s by noon!)**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 

 


	9. What I Once Used to Dream

**  
Chapter 7**

What I Once Used to Dream

_“Raoul I'm frightened. Don't make me do this...._  
Don't put me through this ordeal by fire.  
He'll take me….We'll be parted forever. He won't let me go.  
What I once used to dream, I now dread.

_If he finds me it won't ever end.  
And he'll always be there singing songs in my head…. ”_

_-“We Have All Been Blind” from the musical “The Phantom of the Opera”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah shivered and pulled her shawl tighter around her body as she exited the apothecary.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoggle! Didymus, always a pleasure. Ludo, be sure you keep warm, dearest! Farewell, mon amis!”  Sarah gave a smile and shut the door.

 

It had been a month to the day since her father had left for Wolverston. Sarah had hoped that he would have been back by now, mostly because of the weather, which had grown steadily worse with each passing day.  It hadn’t snowed yet thankfully, but by the look of the sky today, that wouldn’t remain true for long. 

 

Tugging up her shawl so that it covered her head, Sarah hurried down the street, not bothering to look where she was going.

 

She bumped into something rather large, warm and squishy.  Hands grabbed Sarah’s upper arms in a steadying grip as she stumbled a bit after the collision.

 

“Why, hello there!”

 

Desmond beamed down at her, his handsome face breaking into a wide grin.

 

“Hello Desmond,” Sarah replied, very much aware that he still held her arms. “How are you?”

 

“I’m fine, thank you very much, Miss Sarah.  I was just on my way over to Rosie’s for a drink.”  He let go of her, gesturing over to the pub, “Would you care to join me?”  He looked down at her, his eyes hopeful.

 

“Thanks, but no thanks Desmond.  I should probably be getting home.  It’s later than I thought.” 

 

Sarah glanced up at the sky, which had become considerably darkened since she had left the shop.

 

The smile lessened slightly on Desmond’s face.  “I suppose you’re right.  Would you like me to escort you home?”

 

Sarah was rapidly becoming peeved at the boy’s persistence.  Being friendly was one thing, surely, but hounding relentlessly after her was starting to wear on Sarah’s already frazzled nerves. She forced a sickly sweet smile.

 

“No thanks, Des.  I appreciate you offer, but I would feel terrible for forcing you to walk all the way with me in this cold.  I’m a big girl. I can make it.”

 

His face brightened exponentially at the nickname.

 

“If you insist Sarah.  Do take care on the road, and beware the Goblin King.  It’s said  that he prowls the forest around here.  He preys on pretty girls such as yourself, I hear, who go wandering around alone at night. They say he eats the girls’ hearts, for he has none of his own.” He winked at her, his voice teasing.

 

Sarah started blankly at him for a moment. “How do you know about him?”

 

“About who?”

 

“Him! The Goblin King!”  Sarah racked her brain for a moment.  Surely she hadn’t told Desmond about that.

 

“I asked your charming friend. Ludo, was it?  I wondered what you were doing all those times at the apothecary, and he told me about the stories.”  Desmond smiled.  “ I hope that you aren’t offended by my prying.”

 

Sarah started intensely at Desmond at the new development in the conversation.

 

“Oh, no, but…do you believe it?  I mean, the stories about him?”

 

Desmond furrowed his brow.  “I makes just as much sense as the rest, I suppose.  It could just as well be a dragon instead of a Goblin King haunting these parts.  I guess we’ll never know, unless we meet the being, will we?”

 

Sarah pondered that for a moment, before remembering where she was and what she had been doing before.

 

“Oh, no!” Sarah moaned, looking around her.  It was very dark now, the clouds building up rapidly, a storm imminent.  “I really must go now, I’m sorry.” She gave Desmond a small curtsey, and was turning to dash up the street as he caught her hand.  He brought it up to his lips, kissing it softly.

 

“Until later then, Miss Sarah,” he whispered huskily, his eyes soft.

 

“F-farewell” Sarah stammered, hurrying away.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The cold wind lashed out at Sarah as she hurried out of town.  Her face felt hot, along with the hand that Desmond had kissed.  _Damned boys.  Never gave me a second glance when I was in Wolverston, and now when I get out here, I find the only one who won’t leave me alone. I suppose that the pond is smaller out here._

 

The snow began to fall as she pondered, soft at first, and then with an alacrity that alarmed Sarah.  She could hardly see her feet.  Sarah bent her head, and stumbled on, blindly hurrying in what she hoped was the direction of the cottage.  After a few minutes, Sarah peeked her head out of the shelter of her shawl, hoping to see Appledore, but instead found herself inexplicably in the forest.

 

Her heart jumped in to her throat.

 

 _Damn!_ Sarah looked wildly around, trying to gather her bearings. _Damn, damn, DAMN!_

Sarah peered up to the sky above, hoping to see the moon or the stars, something to guide her way home and out of this mess.  Nothing. Just tree branches and the grey sky above, choked with snow.

 

“Damn.” Sarah muttered out loud, walking forward a few steps.

 

A branch snapped, and Sarah jumped, spinning around. _Oh Merlin! Was that…_

 

Sarah thought that she saw a flash of white between the trees, and then nothing. Shivers began to wrack Sarah’s body, shivers completely unrelated to the cold.

 

_Get a hold of yourself, Sarah. That was not an owl. This is not an enchanted forest. You are not lost. You are merely… sidetracked. Yes. Sidetracked is exactly what you are right now.  Your mind is playing tricks on you because of…_

Another branch snapped, ceasing her inner monologue instantly. Not daring to look behind her, Sarah picked up her skirts and sprinted through the trees, hair and shawl trailing behind her. 

 

Sarah ran blindly, twisting through the seemingly endless maze of trees before…

 

 _There!_ Sarah could see a light ahead through the trees where the forest thinned.

 

Sarah burst though the tree line to find herself looking at the back of Appledore cottage.

 

Sarah gave a shaky laugh and hugged herself, sagging against one of the laundry poles. Sarah stayed there for a moment, pausing to catch her breath and to wipe at the hysterical tears that had formed in her eyes.  She made her way around carefully to the front door, trying to compose herself.

 

With a determined breath, Sarah opened the door and entered the cottage, nodding to Karen, whose eyes widened as she took in Sarah’s disheveled appearance.

 

“Sarah, what…” Karen looked Sarah up and down, noting her muddy hem, rumpled skirts, fly-away hair and wild eyes.  “What on earth happened to you?”

 

“Nothing,” Sarah lied smoothly, trying to calm her frantically racing heart. “I met up with Desmond after I left the shop, and we got to talking.  I didn’t realize how late it had got, and it was starting to snow, so I ran home. I ran because I was cold, and it had started to snow…”

 

“Oh,” Karen’s face smoothed.  “Didn’t Desmond offer to walk you home?”  Her face darkened at the lack of propriety shown by the boy, in her opinion.

 

“Oh, he did,” Sarah explained half-heartedly, “But it was cold, and I…” Sarah stopped dead at the look in her step-mother’s eyes.

 

“Sarah.” Karen admonished with a sigh. “Desmond _obviously_ likes you, very much if he offered to walk you home in this weather.”

 

She looked at Sarah calculatingly over the top of her needlework.

 

“I am assuming you would tell me if you had a date.  I would like it if you had a date. You _should_ have dates at your age!”

 

Sarah’s temper snapped.  She had been accosted by that boy, started home late, gotten lost, and to top it all off, she thought that she had seen the bloody Goblin King in the damned forest. Her father was not yet home, and Karen was admonishing her about her love life.  It was just too much!

 

“I can’t do anything right, can I !!!” Sarah cried petulantly, stomping up the stairs with all the acrimony of a child half her age.

 

Sarah threw herself into her room, slamming the door behind her as she fumed. She chucked her shawl across the room, and stalked over to the mirror.  Her disheveled appearance did nothing to ease her temper.

 

“UGH!” Sarah flung herself away from the mirror, dragging her chair across the room, plunking it down under the gabled window. Sarah plopped herself down in it, her hand propping up her chin as she stared out the window at the snow swirling down outside, and the dark forest beyond.

 

“Oh Papa,” Sarah cried, closing her eyes as the angry tears came.

 

Sarah wiped them away, annoyed at their presence, but did not open her eyes.

 

“I wish you were here, safe at home.  I miss you so.” 

 

Sarah continued to murmur her worries as her mind drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

_Sarah was standing in an expansive room, lavishly decorated.  She craned her neck up to see the ceiling, but it was so far up…when she returned her gaze to the room at large, a man sidled up to her, dropping into an elegantly low, courtly bow.  Desmond. Without a word, he grasped her hands, spinning the two around the room, dancing.  As they whirled, Sarah noticed that she was not alone. The room was a veritable confusion of people, all in silken gowns and velvet suit coats, dancing in the glitter of the candlelight. Just as Sarah was lamenting the lack of ball gowns in Bracknell Fen, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was bound up in an elegant knot, shining sleekly in the flickering light.  Her everyday dress was gone, and in its place was a beautifully-cut, grey gown that flowed around her in the most delicious fashion as she twirled with Desmond._

_But it wasn’t Desmond anymore. In his place was a different man, dressed all in black, with a high collared, flowing cape and an ornate breastplate.  The man studied her intensely, a wolfish grin creeping into his haughty stare, his teeth glinting wickedly in the firelight._

_The dream changed._

_Her father was crouched down on the ground, a brilliantly red rose clutched him his shaking hand._

_A great billowing figure stood before him, imposing and frightening, magic crackling at it’s fingertips._

_“You dare!” the shadowy man barked, taking a feral step towards her father cowering on the ground.  “I have shown you nothing but hospitality and this is how you repay me! You decide to steal one of my roses!”_

_“P-please, kind master,” Robert shook out, a hand reaching out beseechingly towards the man, “I only wanted to get something for my daughter, she loves pretty things so much…I humbly beg, most abjectly noble sir, for your pardon!”_

_The dark shadow before him paused for a moment before snapping at Robert._

_“Your…daughter. I see.”_

_Robert trembled._

_“You love her so dearly as to steal one of my beloved roses! So that you can give it to a bratty little child who would crush my flower as soon as her grubby fist grasped the stem?” His eyes gleamed with unrestrained fury._

_“She is twenty-three, your lordship,” Robert coughed out, bile rising in his throat, “hardly a child.”_

_“Hmm…”_

_The magician stood still, thoughtful._

_Robert suspected what was coming next, dread gnawing a hole in his stomach. No. Out of the question, how could this magician ask such a thing…_

_“I will forgive you for your treachery and for your thievery, old man, on one condition.  You must bring your daughter here to the castle to stay forever, in payment for the rose that you stole.”_

_“Ah sir!” Robert moaned, dropping the flower as he clasped his hands together desperately, “I cannot do that! How could I force my daughter down such a path…”_

_The black-clad figure glared down at Robert, his temper flaring._

_“Very well.  Either you or your daughter must return here in one week, or I will come and collect her, and I assure you, I will show you no mercy if and when I do.”_

_“I assure you that that won’t be necessary,” Robert stuttered._

_“As you say.”_

_The man strode over to Robert, bending down to retrieve the rose Robert had dropped in his terror.  The figure turned and held out his other hand. Greatheart trotted obediently over as the magician grasped the reigns.  Robert had risen from the ground by this time, shaking. The figure thrust both the reigns and the rose at Robert._

_“Go. Take the rose to your daughter and give it to her.  Explain the predicament that you have so unwittingly found yourself in. Tell her the options. You or her. Do not forget your promise, old man.  One week.”_

_“How will I find my way back home?” Robert asked desperately._

_“Through my Labyrinth?” The man scoffed. “You’ll manage.”_

_The dark figure slapped the horse on the rump with a shout of laughter.  Greatheart reared up and bolted off across the lawn in the direction of the gate._

_The magician howled with laugher for a moment before transforming into a gigantic white owl and flying off in the direction of the dark forest._

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah awoke the next morning to find her neck very sore from sleeping slumped up against the window.  She groaned and stretched, her sore muscles aching in protest at the action. Sarah shook her head slightly. She’d had such strange dreams that night.  Sarah struggled to remember. She remembered that she had been dancing, and that she had also been very scared, though she couldn’t remember why.

 

 _I’m such a child._ Sarah scoffed at herself. _Scared of dancing. It was only a silly dream, brought on because of my scrambled thoughts. It was just a dream._

_Just a dream._

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: …Or was it? (Insert evil cackle here). Just to clarify, the second part of Sarah’s dream with her father and the G.K. is what was really happening right after Jareth reveals that he is the G.K. The night Sarah fell asleep at the window, her father was at the castle. (And for any other discrepancies in the time line, will you accept the explanation that time moves differently in the Labyrinth than it does in the world of Bracknell Fen…)**

**A bit of a longer chapter, I hope you all like it! Things are _finally_ starting to happen, and the plot is picking up!  One of my fave chapters to write! Please leave me your comments and constructive crit! (ALSO--please tell me if I get to be too “Mary Sue.” I try to objectively evaluate my work,  but things (including that dastardly Mary Sue) slip through sometimes. I want to make my characters (reasonably) canon and full of good characterization!)**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

**“Desmond” and “Des” are a nod to the TV show “LOST.”**

**Desmond’s warning of the G.K. eating the hearts’ of pretty girls is a nod to “Howl’s Moving Castle.”**


	10. Into the Arena

**Chapter 8**

Into the Arena

_"It was, he thought, the difference between_

_being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death_

_and walking into the arena with your head held high."_

_Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose_

_between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew…_

_that there was all the difference in the world."_

_-“Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince” by J.K. Rowling_

_*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*_

 

Karen glared at Sarah as the latter emerged downstairs for breakfast.

 

“Sarah.” The tone of Karen’s voice plainly told Sarah that Karen was still peeved at Sarah’s outburst the previous evening.

 

Sarah groaned inwardly. _Time to bite the bullet._

 

She interrupted Karen before the woman was able to burst a blood vessel. “Karen, I’m sorry about my behavior last night. I am just so worried about Papa. The weather is so horrible and he’s been away for song long…”

 

Karen narrowed her eyes at this, but her face relaxed.

 

Sarah let out her breath with a quiet whoosh.

 

Toby came bounding down the stairs at that moment. 

 

_Boy, that kid has excellent timing._

 

“Hey guys! Did you leave some breakfast for me? I’m starved!”

 

His mother set a bowl down in front of him, which the boy proceeded to tear into with such a look of pure relish on his face, that Sarah couldn’t help but laugh.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

That night, the small family sat before the fire, enjoying its crisp warmth. Karen was darning socks, (mostly Toby’s, due to the fact that the boy could never quite remember that one needed to wear shoes as well as socks when one went to go frolic out in the rocky yard.)

 

Sarah and Toby were playing Cat in the Cradle with a bit of yarn that Karen had discarded.  This continued for a little while until Toby declared that he was tired of such mundane games as Cat in the Cradle, and that he required more stimulating entertainment.

 

Sarah, all too happy to oblige, rose from her seat on the hearthrug, intending to fetch some cards or something of that sort, when she happened to glance out the window at the falling snow..

 

There was something or some _one_ moving outside by the stables.

 

Sarah let out a strangled gasp and ran to the window, peering out into the darkness. At that moment, the door to the cottage was flung open, snow carried in by the chilling wind.

 

“PAPA!” Sarah ran to him and captured him in a mighty embrace.  Toby joined Sarah in her merriment as Karen scurried over to shut the door.

 

“Oh Robert,” Karen gasped, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Come on, you two! Let the man breathe!”

 

Sarah and Toby sheepishly let go of their father, but followed him over to his chair by the fire.  Robert sank into the chair with a deep, groaning sigh.

 

Karen fussed about Robert; removing his cloak and boots, fetching him a blanket, and pestering him with questions.

 

“Robert! How was the city? Was the ship there? What happened?  Why are you so shaken? Oh Robert, tell me! Are you hurt…”

 

He raised a hand, which effectively cut off her stream of questions. From his breast pocket, he produced his stolen rose, uncrushed and still fresh as if it had just been picked.

 

“For you,” he croaked, handing the flower to Sarah.

 

“Oh, Papa! It’s beautiful!  Wherever did you find it?”

 

A dark, brooding look crossed her father’s face.

 

“…Papa?” Sarah furrowed her brows.

 

“Robert, what is it?”  Karen hovered nervously next to his chair, tea and brandy in hand.  Robert looked up at her and smiled wryly as he saw the drink.  Karen passed it to Robert, and he took a grateful sip.

 

“It’s a long story.”  Robert took another sip of tea, his cheeks returning to their normal hue in the wake of the steaming tea.

 

A confused look was passed between Karen, Toby, and Sarah as they sat down in various spots around the room.

 

“Where to begin,” Robert mused, staring deep into his tea, as if it held the answer to his musings.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert recounted his journey to Wolverston, how he found the boat, received his gold for the goods and his departure from the city.  His story continued to how he lost his way in a snowstorm and how he found himself in the Labyrinth.

 

Sarah shuddered violently at this point.  _Hoggle had been right. There was a Labyrinth…what if he was right about the rest.…what if…_

 

Sarah mentally shook her head and returned her thoughts to her father’s story.

 

“…and I was so desperately lost.  I heard some talking and rustling nearby. It turned out to be goblins.”

 

A collective gasp went around the room.  Karen looked positively faint while Toby bounced in his seat with excitement, leaning forward in his chair as he listened to his father.

 

Robert told of how he followed the goblins to the castle, found a room, was fed, and put up for the night. 

 

Sarah was sure that she knew what was coming next.  Her gut felt as though it had dropped to her toes. There was one piece missing from this story, the most critical piece.

 

“Then I saw them.  I don’t know what came over me.  I’ve never seen such glorious roses.  I wanted to get one for Sarah.”  He smiled weakly at his daughter.

 

“Oh papa! Why did you do that? I didn’t need a rose, I…”

 

“My dear, I saw them and I thought of you. I don’t know why I did what I did, or why I thought of you.  It was as if I was under a spell.”

 

Robert took a deep breath and continued.

 

“That’s when _he_ appeared. At first it was just an owl, swooping over my head, and then it was a man….Well, I think he was more than just a man. There was something about him…he just exuded power and cruelty…his magic…”

 

Robert broke off, lost in his memories.

 

 

Sarah sat, unable to move, unable to process what her father was saying.

 

_So it was true.  It was all true._

“He was furious at my thievery.  He said that he must have something of mine in return for his stolen rose.”

 

“What did he demand?” Karen whispered, fear clouding her eyes.  “Did he want money or land or…”

 

She broke off as Robert turned his head, looking mournfully at his daughter.

 

Sarah felt cold. 

 

She stood up, and walked over to the fire, staring down at it, the rose clutched in her hand.

 

“It’s me, isn’t it,” said Sarah softly, lifting the rose to her face, inhaling it’s deep, heady fragrance.

 

Robert was silent.

 

“Wh-what!” Karen spluttered, looking fiercely over at her husband. “Your own _daughter_! Robert, you didn’t…”

 

“No, I didn’t.”  Robert swirled the dregs of his tea.

 

Toby quietly made his way over to Sarah who stood still by the fire, wrapping his small arms around her waist and leaning his head against her side. Sarah softly stroked his fair hair.

 

“But you said--” Karen shrilly began, rubbing her temples.

 

“He told me that I had a week.  He gave me a choice, not that that makes this situation any better…When the week is up, either Sarah or I must return to the castle to stay…forever.”

 

Karen uttered a moan and slumped in her chair.  Toby ran over to her, trying to rouse his mother from her swoon.

 

Sarah took one last long look at the fire before turning to her father, a determined look on her face.

 

“I will go.”

 

Robert visibly protested at this proclamation, half-risen from his chair. “Sarah, no!”

 

“ I must. He asked for me.  How do you know he won’t try to lure me to him in some other way once you’ve gone to him? If that were to happen, we’d both be gone.  What would happen to Karen and Toby?  They need you…I need…I need you to stay here.  I need to know that you will be here to take care of them.” 

 

Sarah’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.  She knelt beside her father’s chair, clasping his hand in both of hers.

 

“Sarah--I can’t let you do this!”  He looked pleadingly at her.

 

“It’s not a question of free will, Papa.”

 

“Sarah,” fear shone in his eyes, “How could you I condemn you to such a future? I will go, in your stead. I’m old, I’ve lived my life!  This magician can do nothing to bother me if I know that you are safe.”

 

“My will is as strong as yours, Papa.  I can’t let you do this.  The rose was for me.  If you don’t let me go with your consent, I will run off in the dead of the night and make for the castle at the center of the Labyrinth.  It’s my fault that this happened, and I intend to set it right.”

 

Sarah ceased her gentle tirade, her eyes firm with determination.

 

Robert looked at her hard for one moment.  “You--you’re sure about this? This is the path that you have chosen? To be stuck in that abhorred castle with the King of the Goblins for all eternity?”

 

“Yes,” she whispered.

 

Full of despair, Robert gazed at his daughter, who in turn looked resolutely down at the rose clasped in her hand.

 

“It doesn’t seem very honorable of me to let you take the punishment for my folly….”  Robert sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers. “But, I don’t think that I would be able to persuade you otherwise.”

 

Sarah rose and kissed him gently on the top of his head.  She walked over to where Toby was trying to revive a determinately swooning Karen.  Sarah gently took his hand and led him to the Kitchen, glancing back at her father for a moment before continuing upstairs.

 

Robert groaned, his head held in his hands in a gesture of defeat.

 

“Damn you, Goblin King,” he muttered hopelessly, tears glistening between his fingers, “And damn me too.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah lay in bed, hours later, staring at the rose her father had brought her. It was sitting primly in a vase on the windowsill, the pale moonlight dusting the petals in the creamy light.

 

Once she had fallen asleep, Sarah  had her dream again.  She was dancing in the elusive castle hall, with the man in black.  This time was different, however.  This time he spoke.

 

_Sarah…_

 

She woke with a start, looking around her room.  The stars winked innocently at her through the dark window. Sarah couldn’t shake the strange feeling she had.  _How did that man know her name…well, it was a dream after all, a byproduct of an overworked brain…of course he would know your name, he is a figment of_ your _imagination…but still…_

She could hear it, echoing over and over again in her head, the strange, powerful voice of the black-garbed man.

 

_Sarah…_

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

END PART 1

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: <insert ending theme music from LOST>**

**Thus ends Part 1 of our tale! I don’t have much to say here, except for thanks to those who have read (and reviewed!) my story! I appreciate it! I hope that everyone will keep on reading as I move on to Part 2! I admit that I haven’t been writing a whole lot the past few weeks, because I was having trouble deciding where I wanted this story to go and roughly how I wanted it to get there.  However, I have conquered my writers block and I am now getting a rough plot down, and getting the next chapter finished up!**

**Off topic: Saw Harry Potter (my first true book-love!) and LOVED IT! I won’t spoil anything, I will just say: Please! Go see it! It is fantastic! It is funny, and yet so dark!**

**My dear readers: Please read and review! I enjoy reading all of your lovely reviews!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**


	11. The Road

***PART 2***

**Chapter 9**

_ The Road _

_“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo,_

_going out your front door._

_You step onto the road, and if you don’t_

_keep your feet, there’s no telling where you_

_might be swept off to.”_

_-The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The week sped by without so much as a spare moment for Sarah to lament the impending doom that would forever seal her fate.

 

No one spoke of what had transpired on that night that Robert, shaking and distressed, emerged from the wintry night.  No one dared to glance at the rose, sitting in a clay cup atop the mantelpiece, a silent reminder of the payment owed by the Williams’ folly.

 

Tension, despair, fear and anger were palpable, though none dared voice them aloud. The pained expressions, tears, and furrowed brows spoke volumes in their stead.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The morning woke, cool and grey, the snow sparkling in the pale sunlight. Breakfast was a quiet affair, no one daring to look up from their oatmeal for fear of bursting into tears.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah stood in her small attic from looking at what was soon to be her old life. Her bed was carefully made, the worn quilt smoothed out, the pillows plumped.  Her dresser had been emptied, it’s admittedly meager contents packed into a rucksack that stood by the open door.  Sarah sighed and walked slowly over to the window, taking in the view one last time.  She spoke quietly to herself.

 

“No use being frightened or remorseful now, Sarah.  What’s done is done.  I must be brave.  For Karen and Toby and Papa…”

 

She broke down, quietly letting the tears fall down her face.

 

“Sarah?” Her father called quietly up the stairs, his voice full of a false cheeriness.

 

Sobering, Sarah quickly wiped the tears from her face, grabbed her rucksack, and looked around once more, whispering quietly to the room.

 

“I’m closing a chapter of my life.  Just wait.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The horses were saddled and packed sooner than Sarah had hoped.  Sarah quietly left the cottage, fastening a cloak around her shoulders, and walking over to where her family and the horses stood waiting in the snow.

 

Karen hugged Sarah fiercely, tears glistening in her eyes. 

 

“Be brave, my dear Sarah.”

 

Toby was next, the crimson rose clutched in his little hand.  Silently, he handed the flower over to Sarah, who in turn tucked it into the breast pocket of her cloak. 

 

“I’m gonna miss you Sarah,” the little boy croaked sullenly, his eyes red from crying.

 

“And I you, Toby dearest!” said Sarah fondly, sweeping her brother up into a hug. “Take care of Karen and Papa, will you?” 

 

Sarah set Toby down.

 

“No more tears. Promise?”

 

“I promise.”  The little boy set his jaw firmly in determination.

 

“It’s time Sarah.”

 

Her father beckoned her over to the horses.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Appledore cottage disappeared from view as Sarah and Robert rode silently into the forest, heading due west.

 

Shortly after mid-day, the pair arrived at the doors to the Labyrinth, iced with glassy frost, shining in the noon light.

 

“Here we are,” Robert sighed, “the Labyrinth.”

 

He smiled weakly at his daughter as they dismounted.

 

“This is where I must say goodbye, m’dear.”

 

Sarah gave a quiet sob and embraced her father.

 

Robert softly stroked Sarah’s hair, murmuring to her. 

 

“Sarah, you’re sure that you want to do this?  If you have changed your mind, I shall gladly go in your stead…”

 

Sarah looked sharply up at her father.

 

“No Papa, I am going.  As I have said before, Karen and Toby need you more than I.”

 

“I had hoped that I might change your mind, and that you would let me go instead of you.”

 

“I’m more stubborn than you give me credit for, Papa,” Sarah teased.

 

“So you are.”

 

He tweaked her nose, sighing as he did so.

 

“I suppose that this is goodbye, my dear Sarah.  Be brave and do not fear.  I will…I will miss you desperately.  We all will.”

 

“Goodbye, Papa.”

 

Sarah let go of her father and mounted Greatheart once more.  She turned to wave cheerfully at her father, before riding through the double doors into the misty depths of the Labyrinth.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Greatheart seemed to know his way through the  Labyrinth, though Sarah was thoroughly confused.

 

“Nothing is as it seems in this place,” sighed Sarah, looking around at the strange wonder that surrounded her.

 

Through corridors of yellow stone and hedges of green the girl and her horse travelled, until at last they reached their destination: the castle at the center of the Labyrinth.

 

Glancing at the gathering clouds, Sarah urged Greatheart through the gates and onto the castle grounds, not wishing to tarry if it were to storm.

 

Sarah gasped as she saw the castle, dark and imposing against the turbulent skies.  Rain began to drizzle down as Sarah pointed Greatheart in the direction of what she hoped was the stables. Dismounting, Sarah led the horse into a stall, a neat and comfortable place for her dear friend. After removing Greatheart’s saddle and bridle, Sarah lingered in the stables, brushing the horse over and over again, soothing both her and the beast’s nerves.

 

The rain pounded down harder as Sarah filled the carved manger with clean, sweet hay in a laboriously slow manner.

 

_This is it, Sarah.  Here to face your destiny in this strange place…_

Sarah stamped her foot.

 

_It’s just not fair! Why does the Goblin King think that he can order my family and I around…to most of the people in Bracknell Fen, he is just a fairy tale!_

_Because,_ said a sensibly rational voice in another part of Sarah’s head, _he is the Goblin King.  A magician, terribly powerful and cruel.  A fae of the highest nobility, as the stories go.  He could turn you into a toad with the blink of an eye._

Nostrils flaring, Sarah sat down roughly on an upturned bucket.

 

 _I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to make it through this…Well, I suppose that there is no_ through _, there is just_ this _for all eternity._

Sarah snorted, startling Greatheart, who was busily chewing his way through a mouthful of hay.

 

_Maybe if I am lucky he’ll just eat my heart and have done with it._

A slow rumbling murmur of thunder interrupted Sarah’s thoughts.

 

“I suppose I must face him eventually,” Sarah mused, a hint of anxiety tingeing her forced calm. 

 

“Off I go...”

 

She rose delicately from the bucket, dusting off her dress and patting Greatheart on the nose before striding over to the door.

 

“Into the belly of the beast.”

 

Letting out a humorless chuckle, Sarah left her sanctuary, and ventured out into the wet dusk.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The castle became more and more imposing with each step Sarah took.

 

Upon reaching the doors of the castle, Sarah’s knees were quite shaky, and her heart beat out a furious tempo in her chest.  Taking the slightly-wilted rose from the breast pocket of her cloak, Sarah sucked in a deep, steadying breath and pushed open one of the great doors to the castle.

 

Stepping into the foyer, Sarah furtively looked around the great room, half-expecting to see her captor pop out from behind a column.

 

Candlelight made the shadows in the room dance and sway, sending Sarah’s heart into overtime.

 

“Hello?” Sarah called out timidly, nervously fiddling with the rose in her hand.

 

The only response Sarah received was a faint echo of her words, and more rumbling thunder, louder than before.

 

Unsure of what to do, Sarah crept forward, right up to the marble staircase that was the centerpiece in the room.  Running her hand along the delicately-carved banister, Sarah gathered her courage and began to climb the stairs.

 

The stairs alighted to yet another foyer, this one smaller, with a pair of doors which sat primly in front of Sarah.  A strange feeling crept over Sarah.  Some small part of her felt that she should go through these doors, and face whatever lay beyond.  Not knowing what else to do, Sarah heeded these feelings, and entered the room.

 

The throne room stretched out before her, a funny, round room, with a sunken pit in the center, and, naturally, a throne on the far side.  Windows lined the curved wall behind the throne, French doors leading to the balcony beyond.

 

Other than that, the room was empty.

 

“Ugh!” Sarah’s already frayed nerves snapped. 

 

_Of ALL the places you would think to find a king, the throne room would be high on that list…but no, I’ve got a king who hides from his prisoner!_

_I wish that this stupid Goblin King would just come and get it over with!_

Sarah stormed around the pit to the throne, glaring at it disdainfully.

 

“Torment me, eat my heart, throw me in the dungeons, whatever you desire, it doesn’t matter to me anymore!”

 

“Here.”

 

Sarah dropped the rose onto the throne, and spun away angrily, walking towards the doors of the throne room.

 

“It’s what my father stole, returned to you now.  I hope this will suffice since you don’t deign to meet your captive.”

 

Sarah paused as she reached the doors leading back out to the grand staircase, worry and fear niggling at her mind. 

 

_Suppose I do leave and he decides that he does want me.  I can’t just go home and have him come to Appledore…what if he decides to take Toby too!_

“Ooh! I wish that the Goblin King would come!” Sarah cried in desperation, “Right now!”

 

Lightning split the sky, accompanied by a booming crescendo of thunder as the rain lashed against the dark windows.

 

Sarah spun around, eyes wild.

 

_Crash!_

The doors to the balcony were flung open with yet another crash of lightning, as a great, white owl flew through the open doors, alighting on the back of the throne.

 

Sarah smothered a gasp and took a step back as she recognized the owl, which transfigured into the shape of a man, cloaked and dangerous, who spoke in a voice laced with magic and danger.

 

“Be careful what you wish for.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Thus begins part 2! Woo!! After a lot of procrastination, I finally got this chapter written! It wasn’t exactly hard to do, I just kept getting distracted, by ideas for what I want to happen! This resulted in me writing out a scene (long enough to be a chapter!) after I had a little “brain-blast.” Needless to say, this scene practically wrote itself, unlike this chapter.**

**On a sort of random note, I just realized that probably most of my readers have not read or do not know of the existence of the book “Labyrinth” by A.C.H. Smith, written after (I believe) the movie as tie-in merchandise.  I use quotes from it occasionally in this fic (ie: “I’m closing a chapter of my life. Just wait.”) and I thought that I should post the link to an online copy of it for those who want to read it! ( astrolog.org/labyrnth/novel.txt)**

**Thanks to those who have been reading and reviewing, I really, really, really appreciate it!  It helps me out so much, and motivates me to keep writing when I have an artistic block!**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 


	12. A Cage

**  
Chapter 10**

_ A Cage _

_"What do you fear, lady?" he asked._  
  
"A cage," she said.

_"To stay behind bars,_

_until use and old age accept them_

_and all chance of doing great deeds_

_is gone beyond recall or desire."_

_-The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah’s mind went completely blank.  The only thing that her dazed mind could grasp was that the Goblin King was standing in front of her, as real and tangible as you could wish, glaring down at her frozen form.

 

Once this thought had been thoroughly hashed and rehashed over and over in her mind, Sarah began to feel a tinge of fear creep over her, washing away her initial wave of bravado.

 

Sarah could see why the mere thought of the Goblin King could instill so much fear into the hearts of those living near the forest:

 

The Goblin King radiated power and cruelty.  He was standing with his back to the open windows, the storm raging behind him, the wind lifting his cape, his body silhouetted whenever lightning flashed.  Clad all in black, from leather boots to his billowing silk cape, the Goblin King’s image was perfectly crafted for intimidation.  His hair was very blond, almost white in the glow of the lightning, and cut in a strange, otherworldly fashion.  His eyes were what disconcerted Sarah the most, mismatched and bright, full of some terrible knowledge, alien and disdainful.

 

“You-you’re him aren’t you?” Sarah stammered, falling into an awkward curtsey, “You’re the Goblin King!”

 

“Indeed. It would seem that I am.”

 

His face lapsed into a sneer, eyes drifting lazily over Sarah, taking in her form.

 

Sarah flushed and fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve.

 

“You must be Sarah.”

 

“Yes your majesty.”

 

Sarah gave another awkward curtsey as she said this, fixing her gaze steadily upon the hem of her cloak.

 

“So your father was too much of a coward to come here on his own, was he?” the Goblin King drawled acidly, a smirk fixed firmly on his face.

 

Sarah bridled, her eyes snapping up to meet his.

 

“No, I came here of my own volition, in his stead.  I came as _you_ demanded I do.”

 

The Goblin King strode from where he was standing in front of the window, over to his throne.  A strangely tender look crossed his face as he picked up the rose Sarah had dropped there, before he slipped back under his mask of cruelty and pride once more. He sat down on the throne, tossing his legs carelessly over the armrest, careful of the rose he held.

 

“How touching,” he sneered, ignoring Sarah’s furious look, choosing to instead inspect the rose he held with gloved hands.

 

Sarah curled her hands into fists.

 

“Why,” said Sarah, forcing the words out from between clenched teeth, “did you force me to come here?  What is your motive?  Why me and not my father? Why am I so special?”

 

“You’re not,” said the magician, with an air of supreme nonchalance.

 

“Then why ask me to come here!”

 

Sarah was raging, her mind far from the throne room where she now stood.

 

“Why take me away from my home! Why--”

 

“My intentions,” the Goblin King interrupted, dropping his legs from the arm of his throne and sitting up straight, “are my own.  I will not have some silly mortal girl question my motives for what I do with my kingdom and my subjects.”

 

Sarah ground her teeth but said nothing.

 

“Since I have your most rapt attention,” said the fae, slipping into a business-like demeanor, “I would like to inform you of how things are done here at my castle.”

 

He waved a gloved hand, making a gilt chair materialize next to where Sarah stood, her teeth still clenched.

 

“Sit,” he ordered, his voice making it perfectly clear that he was in no mood to argue.

 

Sarah sat down gingerly, half-expecting her chair to turn into a goblin and scamper away.

 

“Very well.”

 

The Goblin King stood, pacing imperiously back and forth in front of the throne as he began to talk.

 

“I am the master of this castle, and my will is law.  Not only that, I am the King of the Goblins, a position bestowed upon me by a sorceress of exceeding power.”

 

Thunder rumbled on as he spoke, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the magician as he paced.

 

“You are a prisoner here.  You are to stay in this castle forever, or until I release you.”

 

“A prisoner?” Sarah whispered, her heart heavy.

 

The Goblin King went on, ignoring her interruption.

 

“You will never leave the castle grounds, and you will most certainly not venture into my Labyrinth.”

 

He let out a bark of laughter.

 

“Even though you’ve managed to find your way to the center of the Labyrinth, you’ll never get out again.”

 

He sat back down in the throne, his gaze drifting over Sarah once more.

 

Sarah scowled.

 

“Not that I wouldn’t enjoy chasing you,” he spread his hands out wide as if to convey that he had no choice in the matter, “But, I have a kingdom to run, goblins to keep in check, and a Labyrinth that needs tending to. I don’t have time to chase after a silly girl.”

 

“If I’m such a silly girl, then why keep me here? Let me go!” Sarah pleaded, the smallest fraction of hope in her voice.

 

“Now why would I want to do that?” said the Goblin King, leering down at Sarah from his perch.

 

He gestured grandly around the throne room.

 

I have grown tired of late of being alone in this castle of mine. The silence presses so, as I’m sure you can only imagine.  I have long desired someone to talk to.”

 

 

The Goblin King glared down at Sarah.

 

“By stealing one of my roses, your father ensured that I would not be left in my solitude.”

 

He lifted the bloom in his gloved hand.

 

“Now, as you are to stay here at the castle for some time--”

 

“Some time?” Sarah broke in, “Bit of a nice way to put ‘forever’, isn’t it?”

 

“Forever isn’t long at all, Sarah,” said the king in a sweetly menacing voice.

 

He glanced out the window as the lightning flashed again, sending flickering shadows running up the walls.

 

“As I was saying, since you will be here at the castle some time…”

 

Sarah snorted.

 

“May I continue?”

 

The Goblin King raised an eyebrow at Sarah’s interruption, continuing when Sarah nodded.

 

“As I was saying, I shall show you to your rooms.”

 

The Goblin King stood from his throne and stalked over to the door where Sarah still sat.

 

Sarah quickly stood and took a furtive step back at the fae’s approach.

 

The Goblin King surveyed her for a moment, taking in her caged look, before extending his arm.

 

“I-I’d rather not,” said Sarah, taking another step back from the imposing figure.

 

“Very well,” said the Goblin King coldly, dropping his arm and sweeping out of the room.

 

Sarah followed, keeping a safe distance between her and her jailor.

 

He led Sarah down several dimly-lit corridors before stopping in front of a pair of carved doors.

 

“Your room,” the king said in a clipped voice.

 

“Thank you,” replied Sarah in an equally terse manner, mentally trying to figure out how she was going to get past the Goblin King to get in to her room.

 

Sarah’s mental calculations were for naught, however, as the Goblin King stepped aside, gesturing Sarah to the doors.

 

Sarah was in the act of turning the handle when the Goblin King spoke again.

 

“Tomorrow night, at dusk, you will join me for dinner.”

 

Sarah turned slightly from the door, looking back at the Goblin King.

 

“And what if I don’t care to join you?” Sarah replied, her voice cool.

 

“That was not a _request_.”

 

His cloak swept the floor with a soft hiss as he turned from Sarah, striding back down the corridor, leaving Sarah alone in the dim light.

 

Angry tears pricked Sarah’s eyes as she flung open the door to her room and blindly entered, slamming the door behind her.  Sarah sagged against the door, her weariness catching up with her.

 

“It’s not fair!” Sarah sobbed, hands covering her face.

 

Feeling slightly dizzy, Sarah made her way to the bed in the center of the room. With a sigh of deepest contentment and heart-breaking agony, the girl threw herself down on the bed, feeling quite hopelessly homesick and alone.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Finally, the adversaries meet! I’ve discovered that I quite like writing J/S!  (Quite possibly one of my favorite duos since Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy!)  Speaking of Darcy, I find that I have been turning to other literary characters to help me in writing Sarah and the GK. Not only have I gained inspiration from Darcy and Elizabeth, but also Eowyn from LOTR for Sarah, a bit of Snape from Harry Potter for Jareth, and of course, Beauty/Belle and the Beast!**

**Also, I’ve found something that I didn’t quite (consciously) realize before I started writing.  I’m writing a Beauty and the Beast tale where the “beast” character isn’t physically frightening or disfigured in some way (as in some Phantom of the Opera/Beauty and the Beast fics that I have read). Hmm…another obstacle for me to wrestle with…(If I had disfigured the GK in some way, I’m sure that a battalion of fangirls would hunt me down and chuck me in the bog.  No one wants to read a fic where one of your main characters is stuck as a giant owl for most of the story, right?)**

**Anyways, thanks to everyone who has written reviews!  I enjoy reading and responding to them!   Thanks so much!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	13. Eternity

**  
Chapter 11**

_ Eternity _

_"One has to get used_

_to everything in life,_

_even to eternity."_

_-“The Phantom of the Opera” by Gaston Leroux_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

He heard her desperate wish as soon as it had fallen from her lips.

 

 

Gloating triumph glowed in his mind, immediately eclipsing a fleeting stab of shame and pity.  She had finally come. He knew that she could have never let her father take her place--she was too headstrong to allow that to happen.

 

 

From the moment she had unwittingly strayed into his forest one week ago, he could think of no other.

 

 

It was all too easy to have her father seeming stumble into his Labyrinth, seemingly by accident, easier still for the king to have his goblins lead the man to the castle.  The picking of the rose--now that was of the man’s own volition…

 

 

…not that the Goblin King would be so ungrateful as to complain of the loss of one of his beloved roses, considering the consolation prize he received in return…

 

 

**********

 

 

She stood cowering before him, dressed in her drab home-spun clothes, eyes wide as saucers as he transformed from his owl form.

 

 

_“You-you’re him, aren’t you? You’re the Goblin King!”_

So this little mortal he had caught has heard the tales--the right ones, as it were. All the better. It would save him tedious introductions and explanations.

 

 

He watched her clumsy curtsey and her clear show of fear as he spoke her name. Now that would not do! What would be the point of ensnaring her here at the castle if her headstrong spark that he so admired was lost? What _was_ a Goblin King to do?

 

As she stared intensely at the hem of her cloak, he callously mentioned the cowardice of her father, for it was cowardice, in this Goblin King’s opinion, to let one’s only daughter to ride off in to the unknown to face certain danger. (Though he still wasn’t about to complain.)  He fixed a smirk firmly upon his face at the thought of the pathetic man.

 

 

 

He watched as the fire in her was rekindled, her eyes snapping up to meet his, the flames behind them burning red hot.  That was the Sarah he wanted. Someone who he could prod and wheedle and torment to his heart’s delight.

 

 

He spied his rose that lay on the throne.  She had brought it-- _but why?_ He had not told her or her father to return it, but she had done it…This girl was most certainly an odd creature.

 

 

He boxed this thought and stored it away in the recesses of his mind before he let his thoughts be displayed transparently on his face.  It would not do if rumors began to circulate that the Goblin King was losing his nerve.  If that were to happen, the goblins would never listen to him, not that they did too much of that now, and people would no longer fear him. (Though he also was not certain how such rumors would circulate, seeing as the only other person in the room who could spread them would not be leaving the castle anytime soon.)

 

 

His mirth increased when the girl demanded why he brought her here to the castle at the center of the Labyrinth. 

 

 

So the girl still had a hopeful spark of freedom left in her, did she? Best to crush that bud now before it can flower.

 

 

He watched as all willpower was crushed in her as he told her of the castle and of his demands and edicts. 

 

 

Her distress over being his “prisoner” did not escape his notice. Why should _he_ , the _Goblin King_ , sugar-coat his words for her?  She was his prisoner, after all, and he was the king.  His will was law.

 

 

It was the Labyrinth that did it in, that last fragile tendril of hope, his impenetrable Labyrinth, full of dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. Surely she wouldn’t be so foolish as to think that going back through the Labyrinth would be as easy as it had been entering it…her easy journey was all his doing, naturally, a byproduct of his own impatience and extraordinary magic.

 

 

The Goblin King became extremely amused at Sarah’s outburst over his use of the phrase “some time” in lieu of the word “forever.”  Well, he was trying to be polite, but if this girl wanted him to be blunt, then so be it.  She would stay in his castle until the end of time. Goblin King’s promise.

 

 

************

 

 

Her hasty step back at his approach did not escape his notice, nor her extreme reluctance to take his proffered arm.

 

 

So she still feared him, despite the sudden reappearance of her fiery temper.

 

 

Little though he would like to admit it, the fact that she shied away from contact with him was troublesome in the mind of the fae king.  He had been accustomed, in what now seemed a previous life, to subjects seeking out his company, forgiving his crude manners and forbidding demeanor in lieu of his handsome visage.

 

 

It would seem that the human that he had caught was impervious to his physical charms.  She was not as shallow as he had presumed....perhaps.

 

 

_Such a pity._

It would have made this bloody curse of his a whole hell of a lot easier to manage…

 

 

…and eventually _break_ , the king reminded himself.

 

 

He led the girl down the shadowy corridors until he reached the room he had set aside for her use. 

 

 

She was so quiet, her spark receding as quickly as it had appeared.

 

 

He stopped in front of the door and spoke to her, and she replied, matching his scorn.

 

 

His mind reveled in her voice, his consciousness drinking in the sound like a man long left parched.  No longer was he alone, no longer would he hunger for the company of someone other than his idiot charges, the goblins in their miniature fortress. He finally had someone to talk to, to be in the company of, to spend an eternity with.

 

 

He spoke again as she was turning the door handle.

 

 

He would not let her hide in her room.  He had been too long without someone halfway intelligent to talk to, to provoke and order around.  He would not be denied the company he had so long desired, and certainly not by this girl. He perversely enjoyed her temper when it flared up, as it did when he demanded her presence at dinner.

 

 

He would enjoy provoking her, he was most certain of that.  It was altogether too enjoyable for him to abstain from doing so.

 

 

_“And what if I don’t care to join you?”_

The king laughed mentally, imagining what would happen if she decided to forgo dinner.

 

 

_“That was not a request.”_

He strode away from the girl, leaving her frozen by the door.  He stopped as soon as he had heard the door to her room slam shut.  He ghosted half-way back up the corridor, stopping some distance away from her door, and leaned against a column.  He crossed his arms and smirked in the dimly-lit hallway as his keen ears heard her cry of ‘It’s not fair!’

 

 

“It’s not,” he murmured, still smirking heartily in his own self-satisfied way as he pushed off from the column and started down the corridor once more.

 

 

“But that’s the way it is.”

 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: I swear, these movie quotes seem to write themselves into the story! I’ll be writing along, and before I know it *POOF!* some quote from the movie is down on paper! I don’t know about the rest of you guys, but I do like putting the quotes in this fic…it seems to help merge the two stories together. (BATB and Labyrinth).**

**Anyways, decided to try something new this chapter.  I realized that I had not created some third-party character that would help the reader see into the mind of one Goblin King, so I decided to forgo the character, and just delve into the mind headfirst! I’m not completely satisfied with how it turned out, but if I don’t just post it now, I’ll end up tinkering with it all night and eventually ruin it.**

**Thanks for all your reviews! I love reading and responding to them! Keep it up!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	14. Fervent As A Flame

**Chapter 12**

_ Fervent As A Flame _

_“What is this feeling, so sudden and new?_

_I felt it the moment I set eyes on you…_

_Fervent as a flame, does it have a name?_

_Yes…_

_Loathing, unadulterated loathing!_

_-“What Is This Feeling” from the musical “Wicked”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Sarah’s first impression when she woke was of warmth and soft pillows, softer than she had remembered her pillows to be at Appledore Cottage.

 

She sat up with a start, blinking uncomprehendingly in the bright sunlight that streamed in through the tall windows ensconcing the room.  It took Sarah a few moments until she realized where she was.

 

Sarah groaned and cradled her head in her hands.  She was at the castle, the _Goblin King’s_ castle.

 

“Terrific,” muttered Sarah sarcastically as she crawled her way off of the bed.

 

She stretched as she began to inspect the room.

 

The room itself was pleasantly furnished, with carved cherry side-tables and oak chairs.  The bed was hung with embroidered plum velvet curtains, and draped with a grey silk coverlet. There was a handsome desk sitting near the, bright windows, fully stocked with beautiful writing paper, quills, ink and nibs.  A doorway curtained with purple silk led to a washroom, complete with a large porcelain tub with clawed feet.  Sarah’s inspection also led to the discovery of the beautiful wardrobe, which contained fine gowns the likes of which would have shamed the titled ladies of Wolverston and their fashion plates.

 

Sarah just shook her head wondrously, bemused at the lengths to which the Goblin King prepared for her arrival.  It was disconcerting.

 

After picking out a soft green muslin dress, Sarah began to contemplate the future.  Sure, she was in the castle in the center of the Labyrinth, and fine, the Goblin King was a narcissistic bully (had she really expected anything different?), but what now?  Sarah had not really thought about what would happen _after_ she had reached the castle.  She had thought that perhaps she would be murdered in some painful and grisly way so that the Goblin King could get his fill of young-girl’s heart, but this was looking more and more unlikely, considering that she had survived the night, heart still intact.  On the other hand, he _had_ demanded her presence at dinner.  Curiouser and curiouser…

 

 _Maybe he didn’t have the right spices to season my heart with last night,_ thought Sarah sarcastically, _Perhaps he needed to make a trip to the market._

Sarah began to laugh aloud  as she imagined the Goblin King in all his black finery walking up and down the streets of Bracknell Fen, a basket hooked in the crook of his arm as he shopped for herbs and seasoning.

 

This seemed to lift Sarah out of her black mood, and, still chuckling, Sarah sat down at the vanity and brushed her hair, admiring the soft waves in the gilt mirror, before braiding it with a flourish

 

Humming a jaunty tune to herself, Sarah began wandering around her room again, trying to come up with something to do.  Nothing came to mind.

 

She paced the room feverishly like a caged tiger before she sat down in a chair with a ‘humph!’

 

“If this is what it is going to be like forever, I hope he does eat my heart tonight!” cried Sarah fervently.  “I’d rather that than an endless stream of boredom and idleness spent in the company of the Goblin King.”

 

Sarah cast around wildly until she decided to go see Greatheart, and perhaps go for a trot around the castle grounds.  It would give her something to do, and it would keep her mind off of dinner with the Goblin King.

 

 _If the Goblin King hasn’t eaten poor Greatheart’s heart already,_ thought Sarah petulantly, fastening a wool cloak round her shoulders.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

She hesitated with her hand on the door handle, uncertainty clouding her mind.

 

Suppose she couldn’t find her way out of the castle…suppose she ran into _him_ …

 

Sarah shivered slightly.

 

No matter how brave or fierce Sarah felt or acted, the Goblin King still scared her.

 

 _As he should!_ Sarah admonished herself. _You forget that he isn’t human, no matter how human he looks! He is a fae, a king, and a powerful magician to boot!  How long do you think that you’d last standing up to the likes of him?_

 

Sarah gave a soft sigh and opened the door, glancing furtively up and down the hallway before padding noiselessly down the corridor.

 

Sarah had known that the castle was large, as most castles were wont to be, but its size simultaneously impressed and terrified her.  The castle was beautiful, certainly, but it was a great and terrible beauty, full of dark secrets and ancient knowledge.

 

Eventually, a promising door presented itself to Sarah, which turned out to lead down a flight of dimly-lit stairs, and out onto the great lawn of the castle. Breathing in the crisp, fresh air, Sarah looked around at the lawn, trying to orient herself so that she could find her way to the stables.

 

She spotted them a few hundred yards to her left, and without further ado, made her way briskly over to the building.  Letting herself in, Sarah found that Greatheart was still there (Sarah had had some slight doubts concerning the honor of her Goblin King), whinnying and pawing the ground as he saw his beloved Sarah.

 

“Hello dear!” said Sarah affectionately, stroking the horse’s soft velvety nose. Sarah admired the stables as she petted her horse, taking in the shining polished wood of the beautifully carved stalls and the large marble basin that served as a watering trough. She hadn’t noticed last night, but now she appreciated the delicately-carved planes of the stalls in the late-morning light. 

 

 _It’s strange,_ thought Sarah, _how fear and darkness blinds people.  The idea of venturing into the unknown…It’s no wonder I feel so frightened here.  The number of known variables is so staggering…_

Sarah shook her head, trying to dispel these unpleasant thoughts.

 

Sarah spied a lead-rope draped delicately over one of the carved walls, and taking this wonderful suggestion, snapped the rope on to Greatheart’s bridle and led him out to the palace lawn to explore their new home.

 

So passed the morning, horse and girl wandering the grounds, meandering slowly through the trees, in and out of the dappled sunlight, taking extreme caution to stay a safe distance from the goblin fortress and the gate to the Labyrinth.

 

When noon-time came, Sarah and the horse returned to the stable to find a tidy lunch laid out for Sarah, and a trough of fresh oats for Greatheart.

 

“Magic.” Sarah said it like a curse.

 

After both had eaten their fill, Sarah saddled Greatheart, intent on exploring the grounds more fully on horseback.

 

The two took off at a smart pace, the metal buckles on Greatheart’s tack clinking merrily as they rode the perimeter of the castle.  As the pair reached the front lawn, Sarah noticed a sheltered little garden near the front steps to the castle. Curious, Sarah urged Greatheart nearer.

 

The garden was brimming with roses of all sizes, colors, and variety. Large, blood-red roses nodded over a gaggle of petite white roses, while pale peach and yellow roses swayed amiably amidst painter’s roses and tea roses.

 

Transfixed, Sarah dismounted, walking dreamily over to a bush that was garnished with blushing pink roses.  Unconsciously, she reached out her hand to touch one of the roses.

 

“Well,” said a voice darkly, breaking Sarah’s preoccupation with the roses, “If it isn’t you.”

 

Startled, Sarah turned quickly to find the Goblin King leaning against a nearby willow, his expression grim.  She took a few hasty steps away from the roses.

 

He strode over, brushing passing Sarah, to the rosebush she had been admiring, delicately inspecting the roses to be sure that none of them had been harmed by the silly girl.

 

After he had completed his inspection, the Goblin King moved swiftly to face Sarah, a scowl marring his features.

 

“Tell me, Sarah. Is your father mute?”

 

“No,” Sarah replied, hesitating in her confusion and indignation.

 

“And yourself, are you dare I say, _unintelligent_?”

 

“How dare…”

 

The Goblin King cut her off.

 

“If your father is not a mute and you are not unintelligent, then _why_ are you here with my roses, clearly a place where you ought not to be?”  the king said icily, brushing off Sarah’s protested exclamation.  “Surely your father, since you insist he is _not_ a mute, told you of how _his_ little excursion with my roses turned out.  He must have done so, since you are here at my castle.  And you, being not unintelligent, would be able to understand, I presume, that touching _my_ roses would lead you down a path that you most surely would not want to venture?”

 

“I-I…” faltered Sarah, “I didn’t think--”

 

“That much is obvious,” boomed the fae, in such a terrible voice that Greatheart was startled into taking off in a sprint across the lawn.  “Not thinking is a common trait, I believe, of your pathetic race, if I am not much mistaken.”

 

Magic sparked dangerously from his fingertips in his cold fury.

 

Sarah bristled, too frightened and too indignantly furious to speak.

 

“Now,” said the Goblin King, his mood darkening with frightening alacrity, “You will stay away from my roses, is that clear?”

 

“Crystal,” replied Sarah, a hint of defiance in her voice.

 

The king evaluated Sarah mutely for a moment before deciding not to comment.

 

“I will see you at dinner.” 

 

Once again, it was not a request.

 

Turning briskly from Sarah, the Goblin King made his way back through the trees in the direction of the castle.

 

Sarah stood stock-still for a moment, watching the Goblin King’s progress back to the castle before she moved, gnashing her teeth as she cried:

 

“What a horrible place this is!”

 

She looked through the trees that surrounded her, hoping to see some sign that could mean that Greatheart was nearby, but to no avail.  Sighing, Sarah strode off in the direction the horse had bolted, hoping to rescue him before the goblins found him, heaven forbid.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah groaned.  She hadn’t realized just how far she and Greatheart had travelled from the stables to the rose garden.  She spent a good hour wandering in circles, trying to find the horse before she decided to return to the stables in her desperation. She found the startled horse nuzzling up against the doors to the stables as if they would protect him from the Goblin King, his flanks sweaty, and his ears flicking nervously to and fro at every sound.

 

“Come here, you silly creature!” Sarah said in a consoling voice, patting the horse’s neck.

 

After a great deal of pleading, threatening, begging, pushing and swearing, Sarah managed to shuttle Greatheart into the stables, where she proceeded to remove his tack before giving the horse a soothing, much-needed rubdown.

 

While she was in the middle of brushing Greatheart’s mane for the third time, Sarah happened to glance up from her work, to look through one of the windows at the darkening grounds.

 

“Damn!” Sarah cursed, quickly dropping the brush in her haste, “It’s nearly dusk! I’m late!”

 

As much as she already detested the Goblin King, Sarah felt that it would be highly unwise to provoke his ire twice in one day, seeing as he was a magician fae-king.

 

_Of all the rose gardens, my father had to find and despoil the Goblin King’s._

 

She gave Greatheart a swift kiss on the nose before gathering up her skirts and sprinting for the castle.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

After two wrong turns and a locked door, Sarah eventually found her way back to her room, just as dusk was falling.  Sarah had only intended on discarding her cloak in her room and hurrying to dinner, but as she entered her room she found an evening gown laid out on the bed, obviously for Sarah to wear to dinner.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” muttered Sarah, glancing out the window at the sky, trying to gauge the time.  _Was it dusk already?_

 

Sarah bustled over to the porcelain washbasin and began to feverishly scrub her face and her hands, trying to wash away as much grime as she possibly could, hoping that the Goblin King would not come so close to her as to see the dirt that refused to budge from under Sarah’s fingernails.

 

After Sarah felt that she was thoroughly scrubbed, she slipped on the dress, a crème concoction of lace and damask, trimmed with pearls and stitched in gold thread.  Yanking her hair out of its plait, Sarah ran her fingers though her tresses to comb it out before catching it up hastily in a gold ornamental clip.

 

If the Goblin King wanted her to look more presentable than she currently did, he would have to refrain from scaring off her horse in the future.

 

Gathering up the voluminous skirts, Sarah made her way briskly down the corridors until she reached the doors to the throne room.  She hesitated as she walked by the double-doors, as if she half expected the Goblin King to burst forth and demand her heart on a plate.

 

Walking a little further, Sarah found light spilling into the hall from an open door, hopefully the dining room.  Cautiously, Sarah peered around the doorframe, praying that the Goblin King wasn’t already there.

 

The room was empty.

 

Relieved, Sarah walked over to the long table and the bevy of chairs that flanked it.

 

“You’re late.”

 

The voice echoed loudly in the room, startling Sarah, who peered around in confusion.

 

The Goblin King stood by the door, frowning heavily at Sarah.

 

“I do not tolerate lateness, Sarah.”

 

“Then perhaps you should abstain from frightening my horse, milord” quipped Sarah, sinking into a mocking curtsey.  “It took me a considerable amount of time to walk back over to the stables, more still to calm my horse. My lateness is of your own doing.”

 

“Perhaps,” said the Goblin King, a frightening smirk spreading over his features, “Or perhaps it was your fault.  I never would have agitated your horse if you had not been in my rose garden.”

 

“And I would have never been in your rose garden if you hadn’t forced me to come here!”

 

The Goblin King glared at Sarah’s retort, as if daring her to speak any further.

 

Sarah glared back at him, but wisely choose to hold her tongue.

 

“Sit” said the Goblin King in an insultingly triumphant tone, gesturing to the table.

 

“I’m not hungry” replied Sarah acidly.

 

The Goblin King pulled out a chair, and gave Sarah a pointed look.

 

“Sit.”

 

Sarah slowly tread over to the Goblin King, antipathy and hatred radiating off her person.  She sat down in the proffered chair, with regal disdain and a back straight as a rod.

 

The Goblin King made his way to the other end of the table, sat down, and rested his chin on his clasped hands.

 

“You’re no match for me, Sarah” said the king condescendingly, his eyes gleaming.

 

Sarah just glared.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Another week, another installment! Thanks to all of my new readers! Welcome, and please read and review! I enjoy reading and responding to all of the comments you leave!**

**Did anyone recognize where the GK’s little spiel about Sarah and her father (** “Tell me, Sarah. Is your father mute?” **etc.) came from? I adapted Jareth’s spiel from a conversation that Jadis, the White Witch had with Edmund in the Chronicles of Narnia.  Why Jadis? For any of you that follow the webcomic “Girls Next Door” by Pika-la-Cynique, you will remember that there was a delightful little story-arc a few weeks ago which featured Jareth’s mother, who is (in the comic) none other than Jadis! (Even more hilarious than Jadis pestering Jareth is when Jadis meets who lives in the basement: the Lord of Darkness from another fab 80’s movie “Legend”)**

**Just a note:  I will be going back to school in two weeks, and while I have a fairly easy schedule, I don’t know if I will be able to keep up with the weekly updates!  I’ll do the best I can, but I will probably have to back off to updating every other week.**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 

 

 

 

 


	15. The Sole Cause

**Chapter 13**

_ The Sole Cause _

_“The keenest sorrow_

_is to recognize ourselves_

_as the sole cause of all our_

_adversities.”_

_-Sophocles_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert was, quite possibly, literally mad with grief.

 

It had been one week to the day since Sarah had ridden off into the unknown to go live in the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, all because he had stolen a rose from the mighty fae king of the goblins.

 

Predictably, there had been no word from Sarah nor the bastard king, no sign that she was alive, that she had made it through the damned Labyrinth, or that the Goblin King had kept up his side of the bargain.  That he had not harmed Sarah in any way.

 

Robert was furious.  If that creature wasn’t capable of wielding magic, Robert would’ve never agreed to such a pact.

 

It is disconcerting enough to find out that something foul lives in the forest near which your family lives, but to find out that this creature is indeed real is quite possibly worse.  Worse still, that the creature is the most abominable thing that could possibly befoul the woodland realm, considering the other speculations and rumors. If it had been a dragon or a griffin, Robert would have been less frightened than he was at the prospect of the Goblin King.  After all, dragons and griffins are mute beasts, mere mythical animals with no conscious thought.   A mind--that is what Robert feared--a cruel, sharp, and alien mind, full of terrible knowledge of magic and other worlds.  That was more threatening than fangs or claws, in Robert’s humble opinion.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah’s absence had not gone unnoticed by the townsfolk of Bracknell Fen. Robert had not realized just how many people had come to be friends with Sarah in their few months in the small town.

 

One of the boys from the town, Desmond, had been the first to come knocking at the cottage to see where Sarah had gone.  Robert had decided that it would be for the best if he did not tell the townsfolk the truth--not just yet.  He concocted up a story about an old colleague of his: a widowed viscountess who had been fond of Sarah’s company when the Williamses had lived in Wolverston.  He said that the lady, now quite old and fragile, deemed it necessary to have someone help her in her daily routines and to keep her company in her old age. Robert had repeated, many times now, how it was an excellent opportunity for Sarah, and that she was so eager and willing to join the “viscountess” that they could not refuse. And so Sarah had come to leave Bracknell Fen for an undisclosed amount of time, as the duration of her stay was to be dictated by the “viscountess.”  Robert had covered up Sarah’s reason for a hasty departure with the reasoning that since it was late fall, the weather was too unpredictable for Sarah to tarry long enough in Bracknell Fen for a proper going-away party, and that Sarah needed to hasten to Wolverston to help the viscountess prepare for the fall social season.

 

Though most of Bracknell Fen had accepted this explanation of Sarah’s absence, there were a few who were skeptical, much to the determent of Robert’s nerves.

 

Foremost among them was the dwarf apothecary whom Sarah was so fond of. Hoggle was his name…or was it Hogwart?  Either way, Robert’s explanation did not seem to placate or convince the dwarf, who didn’t say a word while Robert was telling him about the viscountess and this wonderful opportunity that Sarah had been offered.

 

“Uh hunh” said the dwarf, unconvinced, “um if yeh send ‘er a letter or summat, tell ‘er I says ‘hi’ an’ that all us at the apothecary miss ‘er.”

 

“Will do” replied Robert, slightly uncomfortable.  He knew the dwarf didn’t believe a word he said. At least he was playing along, as if he knew what had really happened to Sarah.

 

This last thought was buttressed when Robert heard the dwarf mumble something, almost inaudibly, as the two parted in the streets of Bracknell Fen.

 

“A viscountess, what crock.  Took by the goblins, more like…”

 

Robert blanched, but kept walking.

 

 

Robert shook his head, dispelling the reverie from his mind. 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

One week without Sarah had seemed like ages to the Williams family. Karen sobbed over the morning porridge, setting the fourth clay bowl back on the shelf, putting back Sarah’s place setting.  Toby was sullen and moody, it hadn’t hit him yet that his sister was gone, quite possibly for good. The Williams family was broken without Sarah’s presence.

 

The Goblin King had torn Robert’s family asunder quite as easily as if he had merely torn a piece of butcher paper to shreds.  Robert wouldn’t stand for it.  Something had to be done.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Unbeknownst to Karen or Toby, Robert’s reason for riding out the next morning was not to hunt for deer and other small game.  No, he was going back to the Labyrinth to see if he could find the castle of the Goblin King once more.  Once there, Robert would try to somehow smuggle Sarah away, or if all else failed, if the Goblin King found him out…well, Robert hadn’t gotten that far in his planning yet.  All that mattered was that he got Sarah back, no matter the cost. Nothing was too precious to lose, even his own freedom.

 

Robert wandered all day in the forest west of Bracknell Fen and Appledore in search of the great doors to the Labyrinth.  By the time night fell, he and his horse were exhausted and yet they had not seen a single sign of the doors to the Labyrinth.

 

Dejected and quite exhausted, Robert curled up under a blanket and leaned up against his horse to wait out the night.  He would just have to continue his search in the morning.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The morning dawned, cool and grey, watery sunshine filtering down through the leafless branches upon the sleeping figure of Robert Williams and his faithful horse.  Unseen by the man or the horse, an owl perched high above in the trees, a look of owlish disgust and scorn on his face.  The owl gave a few soft hoots before taking off, wings beating powerfully as Robert slept on.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert travelled through the morning, venturing deeper and deeper into the shadowy depths of the forest, searching in desperate hope for the Labyrinth.

 

When night fell on the second day of fruitless searching, Robert was quite out of his mind with distress.  Damn this Goblin King and his unfindable Labyrinth!  Robert did not know what to do next.  What little food he had brought was running dangerously low, and unless he returned within the next day or two, Karen would become very worried.  Yes, he would try until tomorrow at noon.  At that time, he would go home and prepare for a second try, this time with more rations. He would be home tomorrow night or the next morning.  That’s if, of course, he could find his way back out of the woods.  Robert did not know how deeply he had delved, nor how circuitous a route he had travelled.

 

Robert passed a hand over his face, trying to dispel his unpleasant thoughts. He would think about all that in the morning.  For now, all he needed to think about was getting a good night’s rest so that he would be ready to continue his search tomorrow.

 

Robert settled down more comfortably on the hard earthen ground, listening to the soft whooshing of his horse’s breath as he dozed off to sleep.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert awoke with a start.

 

It was very dark, either very late in the night, or very very early in the morning; the haunting hour, as Karen called it.

 

Robert stretched, trying to rid himself of the painful crick in his neck. All was silent. Robert blinked, gazing hazily around, his mind working at a sleepily sluggish pace.  He wondered what in the blazes woke him up. He listened more intently at the silence of the forest.  He heard nothing, not the groan of a tree branch in the wind, nor the growl of a predatory beast.

 

Robert settled back down, brushing away his concern, quite content with the idea of going right back to sleep.

 

He sat bolt upright again, eyes wide.

 

_His horse.  Where was his horse?_

 

Stumbling, still groggy with sleep, Robert got up and started peering around for his horse.

 

“Here boy! C’mere! Where are you? Here boy!”

 

Robert was at a loss.  Why on earth would his horse desert him, unless it was some foul beast that got him? But no--it couldn’t have been some predator…Robert saw no blood nor signs of a struggle at his campsite, and besides, what creature could have taken his horse without waking Robert or eating him as well?

 

Robert continued searching, feeling utterly bemused.  He was also beginning to feel a tinge of fear creeping through his veins.  He had heard some kind of noise through the trees, breaking through the silence. Robert crept forward, his heart thumping out a furious tempo in his chest.

 

It was his horse, whining low and pawing the ground in agitation, the reigns of his bridle tangled in some tree branches.

 

Robert let out a shaky laugh, patting the horse’s flank softy and stroking his nose, trying to calm the skittish beast.

 

“It’s okay, I’ve found you, It’s all right.  You can calm down now.”  Robert began to softly croon.

 

_Flick, flick flick._

The horse’s ears were moving rapidly, as if he was trying to catch some sound only he could hear.

 

What Robert could not hear was the owl that flew noiselessly over the trees, circling lower and lower into the forest, each wing beat entirely soundless. What Robert _could_ hear, however, was the whoosh of an owl transforming into a man, and the undeniable humming of magic in the air.  He heard the crunch of boots moving through the underbrush before he saw the figure of the Goblin King step into view from between the trees.

 

“Ahh,” said the Goblin King maliciously, stepping closer to Robert and his horse, “What’ve we here?  A lost traveler? Tut, tut.”

 

Robert balked but stayed where he was.

 

“Give me the child.”

 

“Hmm” said the Goblin King musingly, toying with the delicate branches of a sapling, “I’d rather not.”

 

He snapped off the branch he was playing with, twirling it in his fingers, not taking his eyes off of Robert.

 

Robert winced.

 

“You see, I rather enjoy having Sarah at my castle, despite her flaws, and I do not plan on returning her anytime soon.  Anyways,” the Goblin King feigned a yawn, as if he was tired of talking to someone he found incredibly dull, “if I seem to remember correctly, we made a deal, you see, and that deal stipulated a very specific length of time to the sentence.” 

 

The Goblin King snorted and gave Robert a truly haughty sneer.

 

“It’s only forever.”

 

“Bastard.” Robert stood up straighter, taking a few bold steps towards the impassively blasé Goblin King. “I have come here in search of your Labyrinth to take back my child which you have unrightfully stolen!”

 

“Well,” mocked the Goblin King, nonplussed, “I must say you did a bang-up job of finding my Labyrinth again.  You managed to travel in the wrong direction, nearly a league too far to the north.  Congratulations. However,” the Goblin King raised one elegant eyebrow, “even if you did go in the right direction, you would never find my Labyrinth again, old man.”

 

“I-I…”

 

“As for giving Sarah back, I have said it before, in more words than I will say now: No.”

 

Robert lunged at the Goblin King, who stepped effortlessly to the side, causing Robert to trip, sprawling in the dust.

 

The Goblin King knelt down, leaning his face in close to the befuddled man.

 

“You try my patience, old man” whispered the Goblin King, “ and my patience has been rather thin of late, I’m afraid.  However, I do not think that killing you would win me over in Sarah’s good graces, and since I will be spending an eternity with her, I cannot go about having her perpetually angry at he.  It just would not do.  Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous.”

 

The Goblin King straightened up, dragging the dazed Robert effortlessly up with him. He set Robert roughly on his feet.

 

“Do not be so foolish as to presume that you can defeat me or that you can find my Labyrinth.  It is a lost cause.  Go back to your home and your family, live on with your wife and your son.  Forget about Sarah.”

 

“I will never forget Sarah, nor the monster who stole her” said Robert vehemently, spitting at the Goblin King’s feet.

 

The Goblin King ruthlessly grabbed the collar of Robert’s cloak and yanked the man close. 

 

“That” said the Goblin King haltingly through clenched teeth, “was not very polite.”

 

The king shoved Robert away, and then turned and strode back through the trees, calling back at the man who was sprawled once again in the dust, “I do not hope to see you again, old man, for Sarah’s sake.”  He tossed a shining crystal over his shoulder, which rolled towards Robert, gently rolling to a stop against his boot.

 

“Sarah is mine now.”

 

Robert was on the verge of reaching down to pick up the orb when he felt the tingling hum of magic, tasting the metallic air before the crystal exploded in a flash of light, electric vibrations shaking through the air, a great whooshing sound filling his ears.  He threw up his arm to shield his eyes.

 

Blinking, Robert lowered his arm slowly, trying to clear his vision. He stood in the road in front of Appledore cottage, his horse whining distressedly beside him, the Goblin King’s warnings still ringing in his ears.

 

_Sarah is mine now._

 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Sorry about the lateness, but I’ve been working every day since Tuesday since this is the last week the pool is open, and everyone is going back to school!  I’ve been so tired when I get home that I just want to crash on the couch and watch some True Blood (I love that show!!!)  I move back up to school this next weekend, so I don’t know if I will have a new chapter up right away, but I will try my best this week to write a nice long chapter, but I have a lot to do to get ready! Anyways, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! Please read and review!  Thanks so much to all of you who have already done so!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	16. The Young Prince

**  
Chapter 14: Part 1**

_ The Young Prince _

_“Once upon a time, in a far-away land,_

_a prince lived in a shining castle._

_Although he had everything his heart desired,_

_the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind…._

_As the years passed, he fell into despair,_

_for who could ever learn to love a beast?”_

_-Disney’s Beauty and the Beast_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The leaves that adorned the trees on the castle grounds had finally turned. Crisp yellow and gold trees dominated the view, broken here and there by a bright streak of orange and deep red.

 

Sarah sat, leaning against a silver maple resplendent in hues of scarlet and rouge, which acted as sentinel to the small pond into which Sarah was staring, her face a peaceful void of emotion.  A wool blanket was draped around her shoulders, and a large leather-bound book lay by her side.  Sarah’s peace of mind was short-lived, however, which was quickly remedied when Sarah picked up her book and began to read. 

 

It was a lovely story, about a girl whose parents stole from a sorceress, who in turn demanded that the parents give her their daughter as recompense. The girl was shut away in a doorless, stairless tower for many years, to be visited only by the sorceress, who would scale the tower by climbing up the girl’s hair, which had grown exceedingly long through the years. 

 

One day, a prince heard the girl singing, and he fell in love with her.   The prince hid, and saw the sorceress climb up the girl’s golden hair.  That night, the prince climbed up the girl’s hair and fell even more in love with her.  Needless to say, the story ended happily, after much strife and despair from the young lovers.

 

 _Still,_ thought Sarah wistfully, _it was a wonderful story, especially the happy ending._

A flash of light caught Sarah’s eye, and she looked up.  A small breeze had started to blow through the trees, rustling the leaves and stirring up the water in the pond into miniature waves which caught the light of the late afternoon sun splendidly.

 

Sarah sat, mesmerized by the sight, until the breeze died down once more.

 

Sarah sighed a contented little sigh and returned to her book.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The Goblin King stood not far from Sarah, trees sheltering him from her view. He had just tucked his pendant more securely into his shirt.  It was the flash of light off his pendant that had disturbed Sarah from her story, not the water, though that was a welcome excuse in the Goblin King’s opinion.

 

He watched the girl silently engrossed in her book, and cursed his wretched life. Raking a hand distressedly through his hair, the Goblin King sunk down against a tree as Sarah was doing.

 

Somewhere in his heart, he knew that he was wrong for imprisoning the girl at his castle.  It was not fair to her, or to her family.  It was not fair, but that’s the way it was.  What choice did he have?   The rose that her father had stolen had alerted the Goblin King to the plight that he had blindly and willingly ignored for so many reckless years.

 

The Goblin King groaned.

 

The fae remembered it well.

 

_Once upon a time, there was a handsome young fae prince whose court was always filled with the most beautiful and pleasant people in all the fae lands.  And the people of the court were shallow, and very taken with the handsome and cruel prince, to whom they were practically slaves.  But what no one knew is that the prince was secretly smitten with a woman of the court who possessed exceeding beauty, and he had courted her lasciviously.  So one night, whilst he and the woman were dancing, he called upon his physical charms to win the girl’s affections.  “Say that you love me,” the prince said, “and you will have everything that your heart ever desired.”  But the woman knew of the prince’s cruelty and heartlessness, for word of it had travelled far and wide throughout the kingdom.  And so she spurned the prince’s half-love.  Until one day, when the prince had been particularly ardent, she revealed her true self to him: a sorceress of exceeding power. She could bear it no longer!_

_She cursed the prince, for he knew naught of love, nor did he possess any kindness in his heart. She charged him with the care of the wild and untamed Labyrinth, and of the goblins that roamed and thrived within.  He was forbidden to return to the underground, the fairy lands, the land of his kin, and though he could not return home, his immortal life and fae magic would never be undimmed so that he could live for eternity in his misery._

_In addition, the young prince was made king of the goblins, which entitled him to certain powers.  The newly crowned king would hear the wishes of the desperate and often cruel folk who wished their children away to the goblins, and as Goblin King, he would be obliged to spirit away the wished-away to the fae world.  The one who made the wish would be given the choice to run the Labyrinth to win back their child.  Few chose this path. None succeeded._

_The sorceress had hoped that this fateful duty would soften the Goblin King’s heart.  Surely someone who would see the suffering that cruelty and cold-heartedness engenders, see the weeping mothers beg him for their children, see those who chose to forgo the journey into the Labyrinth to protect their own skins would be affected by such displays._

_It was to no avail, for the Goblin King’s heart grew colder and blacker with each passing wish._

_The sorceress secluded the arrogant new king in a castle at the center of the Labyrinth, where touches of fae magic still inhabited the world of humans.  On this spot she planted rose bushes of varying colors and types; the flowers of love.  The roses were not to be picked, however, for when a bud had been plucked from its green enclave, the Goblin King’s heart would be turned ever so slightly into stone. The more roses that were picked, the more stone-like his heart would become until eventually it beat no longer._

_Though no runners had ever successfully reached the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, every century or so some stray traveler or beast had somehow impossibly reached the castle. The siren call of the roses had proved to be too much for most, and those who could not resist had met the Goblin King’s wrath._

_The sorceress was not finished with her curse, however.  She was not cruel, as the Goblin King was, and she left him with a minute ray of hope. If he could learn to truly love someone, if he could cast away his cruelty and arrogance to love someone and earn her love in return before his heart turned to stone, the spell would be broken._

The Goblin King sighed and passed a hand over his face, trying to dispel his foul memories.

 

It had been centuries, and his heart still beat, albeit it was no less cruel nor any less unyielding than before.  It would never happen.  His curse could never be broken, for who could ever learn to love someone as beastly as himself?

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The Goblin King watched as Sarah closed the book she was reading, her eyes brimming with her trademark far-away look.  She stretched, pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and laying her head on her knees, staring unseeingly at the undulating water in the small pond.  She sniffed and wiped away that tears that had started to trickle down her face.

 

The Goblin King felt a fleeting stab of pity for the girl whom he had uprooted from her life and her family.  It was not fair, but that was the way that the Goblin King did things in his domain. She would love him, and she would set him free from his imprisonment.  He just had to make her love him, and soon.  Though his heart still beat, the rose that her father had picked had done its duty in hardening his heart.  The Goblin King could feel it, heavy and leaden in his chest. He sighed again and turned towards the castle, trying to erase his memories from his consciousness.

 

_He just had to make her love him._

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Tears trickled slowly down Sarah’s face, rolling down her nose and splashing down onto the burgundy dress that sheathed her knees.  She was feeling exceedingly envious of the girl in the fairy tale.  Through their stories were similar in some respects;  a parent’s mistake leads to a powerful magical being taking away a child and locking them up in some dreary place, to tease and torment endlessly; they were also so vastly different.

 

The girl in the tale had a prince in shining armor to save her from her banal existence. 

 

Sarah was quite sure that she would not be so fortunate.

 

Sarah felt homesickness creep over her once more, now that the distraction of her story had run its course.  She wondered what her family was doing, how they were coping without her, and how they had covered up her hasty departure from Bracknell Fen. 

 

She felt a few more tears trickle down her face.

 

Sarah was so incredibly homesick, and so angry and frightened of the Goblin King. He had plucked her away from her family with such ease and heartlessness.  It was no wonder that it was rumored that he needed the hearts of young maidens, for his was as stone in comparison.

 

Sarah was weary of her stay at the castle, and terrified of the secrets it possessed.

 

Why, not two days ago when she was wandering through the gardens, Sarah felt as if she were being followed.  Since the only two beings at the castle were she and the Goblin King, Sarah had turned to admonish the king, intending to retort to whatever snide comment he decided to throw at her.  Instead of the Goblin King, however, Sarah saw a motley herd of some small, dirty grayish creatures, garbed in an odd assortment of cloth and armor.  Sarah shrieked, startling the creatures quite has much as they had startled her.

 

Both parties were sent scrambling in opposite directions in a desperate bid to seek shelter from the other.

 

Sarah, panting heavily from behind a copse of aspens, had belatedly realized what these creatures must be.

 

 _Goblins!_ her mind had proclaimed, offering up the word as easy as you please.  _Of course!_

Sarah had issued forth a shaky laugh, which increased to such a riotous mirth that she had to wrap her arms tightly around her stomach to control her hysterics.

 

Of course there would be goblins here, she was staying at the _Goblin King’s_ castle, after all.  How odd it was that she hadn’t seen one before.

 

 _Imagine that_ Sarah had thought sarcastically, _goblins ruled by the Goblin King. The mind boggles._

Sarah snorted, pulling herself out of her memory.  She glanced up, noticing that her surroundings were substantially darker than they were previously.

 

Sarah groaned.

 

_Another dinner with the king. Another night spent in frosty silence, save for the few sordid remarks that were tossed the other’s way._

_This is what it will be like for eternity._

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!  Again with the chapter splitting. I have no excuse other than I was young and foolish.**

**2009 AN: I’m back! (In more than one sense! Back with the story, and back to college!)  I hope that this chapter satisfies.  I felt that the GK needed his backstory to be explained to the readers, but not to Sarah just yet.  However, if this part of the chapter does not satisfy, I am quite certain that part 2 will!**

**Also, I hope that everyone will recognize the first big paragraph of Jareth’s backstory-flashback.  A very handsome Goblin King goes who those who know where I pulled that from!**

**Note: I implore you, the reader to have a willing suspension of disbelief when it comes to other stories that I feature in this fic.  (Such as in this chapter, where it was “Rapunzel”) .  I’m afraid that I haven’t read a whole lot of books that were written in an alternate universe in a land far, far  away where magic roams and goblins lurk. I wish that I had, but I’m afraid that I don’t have access to them, so I’m going to use books that were written in our world.  I’m not going to go crazy and put in, say, a Twilight book or a Harry Potter book, but classics are fair game!**

**Please read and review! I can’t tell you how much I enjoy reading them!  Thanks to all of you who already have, and thanks to all of you who have put me on your favorite story/author lists and who have this story on your story alerts!**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 


	17. Hunted Deer

**  
Chapter 14: Part 2**

_ Hunted Deer _

_“I'm like a scared hunted deer in the forest,_

_there's no chance of escape_

_and I'm not sure I want to,_

_why do I try to run,_

_when it seems more exciting to be caught.”_

_-“If I Could Fly” from the musical “Dracula” by Frank Wildhorn_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

All was quiet at dinner, as it had been for the last fortnight.  Neither the Goblin King nor Sarah spoke hardly a word, save for the desultory “Milord,” “thank you,” and “you’re welcome.” The occasional scrape of cutlery or the clink of crystal broke the heavy silence, echoing loudly in the great hall.

 

Sarah shifted her food around on her plate, picking moodily at the assorted greens.  Her mind was elsewhere, still thinking of the homesickness that had consumed her that afternoon. Sarah had not thought that she would be here at the castle for this long.  Given the rumors and tall tales that had circulated in Bracknell Fen, Sarah had half-expected to have her heart eaten long before now. She hadn’t expected her current situation: a fortnight spent as a guest in the Goblin King’s castle, an unwilling guest, admittedly, but a guest none the less.

 

The still of the room seemed even heavier than before.  Even the small clinking and scrapes had been silenced. Sarah suddenly became aware of the Goblin King staring at her intently from over his wineglass, and she realized that she had stopped eating for the few moments when she’d been thinking, and he had stopped too, surely because he was curious as to why she was not eating.

 

Sarah flushed, embarrassed.

 

“Is there something wrong with your dinner?” inquired the Goblin King conversationally, nodding his head imperiously towards her plate.

 

“Oh! No, nothing’s wrong, I was just lost in thought for a moment. I beg your pardon.”

 

Sarah resumed picking at the food on her plate once more.

 

“I see.”  The Goblin King raised an elegant eyebrow.  “And what was it that you were thinking of so intently?”

 

“My family,” confessed Sarah, a wry smile playing on her lips, “and this whole,” she waved her hands vaguely in the air, as if searching for an appropriate word, “uh…situation.”  She lapsed off into an awkward silence.

 

“Mmm.” The Goblin King just murmured in mock sympathy.

 

Silence fell once more, blanketing the table and the strange pair who sat there.

 

A few minutes passed before the Goblin King spoke suddenly, without provocation, startling Sarah dreadfully.

 

“Speaking of your family, I happened to see your father quite recently. Last night, as a matter of fact.” The king spoke calmly, as if he were making a casual comment about the weather or remarking upon the current state of the table linens.

 

Sarah spluttered, her attention instantly fixing squarely upon the fae.

 

“You-you saw…”

 

“Your father, yes.”  He took a long draught from his glass, savoring every drop of the spiced wine.

 

“Where is he? Is he safe?” The questions streamed from Sarah, each interrogation running into the end of the other.  A funny look passed over her face as some idea formed itself in her mind.

 

She glared at the Goblin King who sat lazily at the other end of the table, swishing the wine around in his glass.

 

“What did you do to him?  If you’ve harmed him in some way…”

 

“Sarah,” the Goblin King cut across her words, his calm demeanor melting slightly to reveal an undertone of something more ominous.  “I have done nothing to your father that he did not already deserve.  Why must you always cast me as the villain when it was your father who did wrong? Your logic is simply perplexing.”

 

Sarah’s eyes shone with a silent dread.

 

“What did you _do?_ ” she repeated, terror creeping into her voice.

 

“Your father,” began the Goblin King callously, swinging his long legs up to land languorously on the table, “was creeping around in the woods-- _my woods_ , as a matter of fact--searching for the door to my Labyrinth.  He intended to make his way through the Labyrinth again, storm the castle, and spirit you away from here, though it is impossible for him to locate my Labyrinth again, more still to actually find his way through it once more. He got through the first time by sheer blind luck.” 

 

The king waved his hand dismissively through the air, as if he felt that the subject was no longer worthy of his discussion.

 

“I merely found him, lost in the woods, advised him never to try to find my Labyrinth again, and I sent him home, end of story.”

 

Sarah was standing at this time, looking like a furious goddess in her evening gown of violet silk, her palms face-down on the tabletop and her eyes blazing at the insolent king.

 

“I hate you.” 

 

Fury dripped from every word, clinging to each syllable like drops of dew.

 

“Good.” The Goblin King dropped his feet to the floor and stood as well, the magic sparking from his person causing the fire light to flicker.  “Hate is a passionate emotion.”

 

“Why are you keeping me here?” fumed Sarah, keen on unraveling the mystery that was the fae before her, “Tell me the truth.  Don’t give me some damned excuse about being lonely. If that were indeed valid, you could have just talked to your filthy hoard of goblins.  You did not have to rip me from my family and my former life.”

 

The Goblin King snorted, tossing his head, his wild hair flying about.

 

“I need not explain a thing to you.”

 

“Oh that’s right,” Sarah continued, ignoring the fae’s words, her anger mounting, “you wouldn’t know about family or love, would you, Goblin King? For all I know, your heart is made of stone!”

 

The Goblin King snapped his head up sharply.  Obviously, Sarah had touched a nerve.  He stalked around the table over to where Sarah was standing in equal fury.

 

When Sarah realized that a very angry and powerful fae was moving quite rapidly in her direction, her anger deteriorated into fear, and she took a hasty step back, forgetting that she was standing in front of her chair, and tripped. She fell backwards into her seat in an ungraceful heap.  Her anger burned once more, anger at the Goblin King for making her fear him, anger at him for threatening her father, and anger at him for her whole rotten predicament.

 

By this time, the Goblin King had reached Sarah, and he slammed his hands down onto the arms of her chair, effectively trapping her where she sat.

 

“You do not know me, nor my past.  Do not make such wild presumptions about my heart.  I have lived centuries and centuries ere you were born, and I have loved more fiercely and passionately that you can have ever imagined.”

 

His eyes bored into Sarah’s.  She could feel the heat of his anger roll off his person in dizzying waves.

 

Sarah shrank back slightly in her chair, eyeing the Goblin King cautiously, as she retorted, her fire dampened slightly by fear of the unstable magician before her.

 

“And you think that I have not loved someone too?  That I have never cared for someone so deeply that it consumed my entire being?  I have felt love too, Goblin King, and those whom I loved are now lost to me, thanks to you and your imperceptible plotting.”  Her rage built up once more, fueled by the sorrow of the loss of her family. A sharp pain shot through her heart at the thought of them.

 

“I do not believe human hearts capable of what fae feel.  It is an entirely separate league.  Human passion pales and withers in comparison to that of the immortal.”  The fae blazed at her, his infuriation both terrible and wondrous to behold.

 

Sarah turned away her head in irritation and distaste, refusing to look at the Goblin King as the angry tears in her eyes threatened to fall.

 

“Go to hell.” 

 

She bit out the words tersely, tears streaking her face.

 

The Goblin King roughly grabbed Sarah’s chin and forced her to look at him, fury consuming the whole of his vitality.  Sarah gave him a terrorized look.  It was the first time that they’d touched, and she could feel his kidskin gloves dampen under her chin as her tears continued to fall, the sparks emitting from his fingertips dancing up and down the paths the tears had left on her cheeks.

 

“You know nothing of hell,” he snarled, low and dangerous.

 

Sarah stared into his mismatched eyes, truly frightened now, her anger dissipating at his frightening statement.  She tried to free herself from his grip, but he held her still, his hand sliding down to her throat.

 

Sarah’s heart kicked into a furious tempo, her chest rising and falling rapidly in her agitation.  The Goblin King was not a man to be trifled with when he was in a normal mood, and even less so when he was angry enough to kill.

 

“Get away from me,” Sarah whispered, unable to keep the wavering from her voice. She struggled to remove herself from his touch, but to no avail.

 

“Hmm…I would rather not.”  The king grinned, sharp teeth gleaming wolfishly in the fire light.

 

Sarah fiercely swung a hand at the Goblin King, and he swiftly moved his hand from Sarah’s neck to catch her wrist before she could strike his face.

 

“Tut tut,” he mused mockingly, “Absolutely shocking. What dreadful manners you have, my dear.  Now that was not very nice at all, was it Sarah.”

 

Sarah wrenched her wrist from his grasp and quickly shoved her chair back to that she could stand to free herself, relived to have the spatial safety of the table between her and the Goblin King.

 

“What are you playing at?” seethed Sarah, her fists clenched and teeth bared at the amused fae. 

 

The king smirked once more.

 

“Game?” he remarked petulantly, feigning innocence, “What game? Surely I do not know what you mean…”  He moved smoothly past her chair, clearly intending on traipsing over to Sarah’s side of the table.

 

Sarah glowered at him and moved swiftly down the table until she stood behind the Goblin King’s chair, her hands gripping the high back. “You know exactly what I mean, Goblin King, I--”

 

“Jareth,” he interrupted, stopping a meter from the girl.

 

“What?” replied Sarah, her mind temporarily diverted from the acrimony and rage that obscured her thoughts.

 

“My name.  You simply cannot go around for a century and beyond calling me ‘Goblin King.’”

 

Sarah blinked as the words made their way through the fog of anger that clouded her mind.  Then her eyes focused, snapping back to the king.

 

“Well then, _Jareth,_ I don’t appreciate what you are trying to do.  You destroyed my life, well, what little of it was left after we moved from the city, and you expect me to change my ways and warm up to you just because I have to stay here forever? If that is what you are thinking, then you have another thing coming.  I hate you, and no length of time will ever change that, even an eternity, majesty.”

 

Jareth smiled wickedly as he replied.

 

“Like I said, my dear, hate is a passionate emotion.”

 

Then, he laughed.

 

Sarah turned on her heel and stormed from the room, the Goblin King’s laugher still ringing in her ears as she made her way angrily back to her room.

 

Throwing the doors open, Sarah strode quickly over to the wardrobe and started searching intently for something in its depths.  She emerged a short time later holding a pair of riding boots and a heavy wool travelling cloak. 

 

She sat down on one of the carved chairs that littered the room, ripping the jeweled slippers from her feet and pelting them at the wall.  She eased her feet into the boots and stood, wrapping herself in the cloak and throwing the hood over her head so that her face lie in shadows.  Sarah did not think of even bothering to change her gown.  She had no time for that, and time was of the essence if her quickly hatched plan was to work.

 

Without a second glance back, Sarah left the room, leaving the doors ajar in her anger.  She seethed as she ran quietly down the halls and out onto the lawn, making her way briskly to the stables, careful to stay concealed in the shadows.

 

She startled Greatheart when she threw open the doors with a hearty crash. Sarah gave a fleeting look over her shoulder at the dark grounds, half-expecting to see the Goblin King standing there, ready to spoil her plan and err her escape.  Sarah quickly put on his tack and mounted, galloping out of the stables and through the gate to the Labyrinth, never once glancing back to the damned castle of the Goblin King. 

 

Sarah rode through the night, never easing up from a gallop.  Through some divine will, Sarah found her way out of the Labyrinth and through its outer gates and out into the dark forest. Sarah traveled through the night and early morning, riding fast, her mind set on getting as far away from the Goblin King as she possibly could.

 

Just when Sarah was quite sure that she would never be able to find her way out of the forest, she spotted a patch of light shining like a beacon through the trees.  Sarah urged the exhausted Greatheart on, pusing through the trees towards the source of the light.

 

They broke through the trees into a small clearing.  It was the sunrise, gold and pink and dusky orange, blazing above the treetops that had caught Sarah’s eye.  And in the clearing sat a sight that was at once the most beautiful and lovely thing that Sarah could ever have set her eyes on.

 

Appledore Cottage.

 

She was safe.

 

She was _home._

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Oh Sarah, this cannot bode well! Running from Jareth? That’s nigh impossible, don’t you know?  You’ve just made one very powerful Goblin King very, very angry.  (Or perhaps should I say very, very happy? Hmmm…) This chapter has gone through several edits, and I am still not 100% pleased with it, so I thought “to hell with it!” and posted it anyways, because I know that if I don’t post it now, I will edit it into oblivion!**

**Concerning Sarah’s ease of getting out of the Labyrinth:  In my story, J is connected with the Labyrinth (as we see in many fics and) as we see in the previous part of the chapter.  It responds to his emotions and his mental state.  For instance J’s mental guard was down at the end of this chapter because his mind was still on Sarah and what had happened at dinner, and he could have never dreamed that she would be so bold as to leave. His humor distracted him, thus allowing Sarah to pass through the Labyrinth uninhibited.  Just a little clarifying here!**

**Anyways!**

**Please read and review! Thanks to all of you who have already written me all those lovely reviews! I really enjoy reading and responding to them all!**

**P.S.  (Can you tell that I watched Pirates of the Caribbean while editing this chapter? Hint: I pilfered a line from the movie…** **J** **)**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 

 

 

 

 


	18. A Voice, A Face, A Name

**Chapter 15**

_ A Voice, A Face, A Name _

“Hell is not a place,

it's a state of mind and body;

 Hell is obsession with a voice,

 a face, a name...”

 

_-“Phantom” by Susan Kay_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Jareth was still shaking with mirth from his little tête-a-tête he and Sarah had had not an hour ago in the dining hall.

 

He sat in his study, a fire blazing in the hearth and a healthy glass of elf-made mead in his gloved hand.  For the Goblin King, life was _good._

_It was good to be king._

He laughed again as he remembered Sarah’s indignant anger, which he found to be terribly amusing and somewhat endearing…her eyes blazing in passionate hate, her cheeks flushed with fury and her breathing stilted from terror. She was entrancing when she was enraged, all her careful words and calculated movements stripped away to reveal the true Sarah, standing up against his own anger, his match, his adversary.

 

He remembered the emotions that had played across her face when he strode around the table towards her, the fear and ungraceful attempt at fleeing away. He remembered the warmth of her angry tears on his gloves, and the silken softness of her skin.

 

Jareth had not quite comprehended how much the girl intrigued him, until tonight. Up until tonight, she had merely been a pawn, a consolation prize, and his possible ticket to freedom from his curse.

 

But now…

 

He noticed the little quirks and subtleties of her personality and emotions that had previously escaped him.   Everything about her was now so new and fascinating to him: her unbridled passion, her wit of mind and tongue, the way her voice said his name, even in mocking anger.  The way her chartreuse eyes lit up when she talked about her family, the strand of hair that always escaped whenever she put her hair up for dinner, and the way her hands gesticulated madly whenever she was stubbornly trying to get a point across.

 

The way her features softened when she was daydreaming.

 

Jareth shook his head.  He could not quite admit it to himself, but he was quickly becoming obsessed with the girl he trapped in his castle.  It was more than just being obsessed with her because she could possibly be the one to break his curse, but also because he suddenly found her inexorably fascinating.

 

He set his wineglass down and stretched languorously, ruffling his light hair.

 

The Goblin King was quite sure that he was going mad.  Losing his head over a silly girl…

 

***********

 

Jareth tossed and turned in bed, unable to think of anything other than Sarah. It had been hours since he had finally abandoned his mead for bed, hoping to sleep.

 

_Sarah…Sarah…Sarah…_

His mind repeated the name over and over again, caressing every letter and savoring every syllable.  It echoed endlessly, as it had been for hours.

 

The Goblin King slipped out of bed, drew a soft linen shirt over his head, and fastened an indigo housecoat over the shirt.

 

Without seeming to consciously know where he was going, Jareth left his rooms and padded through the silent corridors and passages of the castle.

 

His heart sped up when he had reached the corridor where her room was, reacting to the mere idea of being close to her.

 

Jareth stopped abruptly in his jaunty stride when he saw the open doors. Puzzled, he moved into the shadows and crept forward a stealthily as a cat.

 

_Surely this was not a usual thing for Sarah, to sleep with her door open…this must mean that she…but no, she would not dare…she…_

The Goblin King silently sped up and peered into the dark room, moonlight streaming in from the tall mullioned windows.  The bed was perfectly made, the coverlet perfectly smooth, and every pillow in its place.  The room was, as far as Jareth could tell, empty.

 

Jareth let out a  bellowed curse, his anger causing the candles and fireplace to light, igniting the room with warmth and light. Empty.

 

Jareth strode blindly about, knocking over a few spindly-legged tables and gilt chairs in his fury.  On his third circuit around the room, the Goblin King noticed the doors of the wardrobe were ajar, its contents strewn about.  His eyes traced a path on the floor across the room from the wardrobe, where the slippers that Sarah had worn tonight were carelessly tossed against the far wall.

The Goblin King groaned, his suspicions now confirmed.

 

He turned and strode over to the windows, flinging them open, the moonlight sliding into the room, the cool breeze lifting the curtains.  He stalked out onto the balcony, leapt up onto the balustrade, and jumped, transfiguring into a white owl in mid-leap.

 

He flew swiftly towards the stables, each wing beat inherently powerful and deadly silent.  He changed back into a man before the stable doors, landing on the ground with feline grace. These doors too were ajar, and the stall where Sarah kept her horse was empty, the beast’s tack gone from the hooks where it usually hung.

 

The wind began to howl and dark clouds formed rapidly in the sky. A low rumble shook the ground, and lightning began to flash in the distance.  Gone were the soft linen shirt, housecoat, and grey breeches the king was wearing previously.  In their place was his impressive goblin armor, black with delicate filigree and semi-precious stones. 

 

Gnashing his teeth, the Goblin King conjured a crystal and peered intently into its crystalline depths.  The swirling, glittery clouds in the sphere cleared, revealing Sarah, hooded and cloaked, leaving a stable and walking towards a small cottage, the rays of the early-morning sun lighting the treetops.  Her face practically beamed with joy and some emotion the Goblin King could not immediately place.

 

 _Love,_ a small voice in his head faintly supplied.  _She is going to those whom she loves.  She is going to her family._

 

Fury and envy rising in his chest, the Goblin King summoned up another shining crystal, fully intent on vanishing to Sarah’s home, and carrying her off, kicking and screaming if need be, before she could reach the cottage. She had promised that he would stay with him forever, in exchange for the rose her father had pilfered, and now she had discarded that promise and fled the castle.  It was not fair, nor honorable on her part. He had every right to bring her back…

 

But wait…if he did so…if he did indeed go and spirit her back to the castle, what would stop her from leaving once more?  He couldn’t watch her constantly, much as he would enjoy that prospect.  He had a kingdom and a Labyrinth to run, not to mention the confiscation of unwanted, wished-away children.  She would run at the first chance.  She needed to be taught a lesson.

 

He thoughtfully crushed the crystal in his palm, letting the fine powder drift downwards in a lazy current.  Jareth started to pace slowly, his mind whirring with possible plots…

 

_What if…_

_What if he let her stay with her family…not forever, mind you, he could not allow that.  But a few days, perhaps…a week, even. Make her think that she had gotten away from him forever.  Then he could retrieve her…break this nasty habit of hers of running away._

 

Jareth smirked, teeth glinting mischievously in the moonlight.

 

Striding jauntily from the stables, his black armor changing fluidly back to his nightclothes, Jareth made his way back to the castle, crashing open the front doors with a flick of his wrist, all the while humming smugly to himself.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Chapter 15. Aka: the chapter when the GK goes all POTO on Sarah. (Phantom of the Opera).  It seems like a bit of Erik (the Phantom of the Opera) and Eric (from True Blood) got into Jareth this chapter, doesn’t it? (I don’t think that many will complain…Jareth, Erik, AND Eric? Hoo boy!) (2014: Yes, 24 year old G finds these boys to be just as enticing as 19 year old G. Some things never change.)**

**This is a shorter chapter, partially due to my difficultly in writing it, and my lack of time this week to do so.  I don’t think that I will be able to post a chapter this coming week, seeing as it is already shaping up to be a very busy week!  In lieu of an update next week, I suggest checking out another Beauty and the Beast inspired story:  “Le Fantôme et la Belle” by Kates, which is an epically long (47 ch!) story using the characters from another fave of mine, The Phantom of the Opera.  (Kates also wrote a Labyrinth/POTO fic, that is pretty awesome too, though it hasn’t been updated since ’05.)  Anyways, just throwing out one of my faves!**

**Once again, thanks to all of you who have reviewed my story, added me to your favorite stories/authors lists, and added me to your story alerts! I can’t tell you how much this means to me, and how it encourages me to get chapters up in a timely manner!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 


	19. Home and Free

**Chapter 16**

_ Home and Free _

__

_“Oh, but then_

_As my life has been altered once, it can change again_

_Build higher walls around me,_

_Change ev'ry lock and key._

_Nothing lasts, nothing holds all of me_

_My heart's far, far away_

_Home and free!”_

_-“Home” from the musical “Beauty and the Beast”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The word echoed around endlessly in Sarah’s head, which was blissfully devoid of all thought pertaining to the Goblin King and his horrid castle, and infernal Labyrinth.  All that remained was thoughts of her father, Karen, and especially Toby, all of whom were nestled safely inside the  small cottage that stood before Sarah.  She could see Karen bustling away through the kitchen window, preparing breakfast for the family.  She was heating up water for tea and setting the table, pausing for a split-second at Sarah’s old seat before moving on to finish setting the table.

 

A little pang of happiness went through Sarah’s heart at this small reflex, and she smiled and made her way briskly to the front doors of the cottage. She knocked, the action seeming to echo loudly in the quiet clearing.  She heard footsteps as Karen made her way from the kitchen to the front door, and the click as the latch was undone.

 

The door seemed to swing open in a painfully slow arc.

 

“Hello, how--.” Karen’s pleasantry was cut off as she recognized the girl under the woolen hood standing in the doorway in the early morning light.

 

“S-Sarah? Oh Sarah! Is it really you?” Karen breathed, her voice hitching with emotion.

 

“Yes Karen, truly, it is me,” Sarah replied, stepping over the threshold and catching her stepmother up in a warm embrace, “I’m home!”

 

“Sarah!” Karen repeated, as if she could hardly believe it was true.

 

“Mum, what’re you…”

 

Toby appeared at the bottom of the stairs, tousle-haired, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.  He blearily stared at the two women in the doorway, his brain sluggishly trying to work out the scene in front of him.  Something in his mind finally clicked, however, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

 

“Sarah?”

 

She turned to Toby.

 

“SARAH!” Toby ran and nearly knocked Sarah over with the force of his hug.

 

“Hey there kiddo!”  Sarah ruffled his hair, laying a tender kiss on the top of his head.

 

Robert appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and after a shocked pause, made his way over to the group that surrounded his daughter.  He hugged her fiercely, squishing Toby in the process.

 

“Daaaadd!” Toby protested, wriggling away from the hugging pair.

 

“S-Sarah? How?” Robert faltered, stepping to the side to wrap a comforting arm around a sobbing Karen.

 

“How what, Papa?” asked Sarah, unwrapping her cloak from her shoulders, a tone of cautious hesitancy underlying her voice.

 

“How did you get away from him?  The fae magician?” Robert reiterated, still comforting the distressed Karen.

 

“Well, I got up from the dining table last night and left the room, whereupon I forsook the castle, saddled Greatheart, and rode through the Labyrinth and the forest until I got home.”  Sarah finished defiantly, her gaze steely.

 

Three pairs of wide eyes stared back at her.

 

“Oh Sarah,” Karen breathed, her trembling hands covering her lips, “You didn’t!”

 

“Yes I did, and I’m not sorry.”

 

“What if he comes here to take you back Sarah?  His wrath will surely be terrible.”  Robert asked, brows furrowed.

 

“Oh Robert, I’m so scared,” whimpered Karen, burying her face in the front of Robert’s shirt, “what if he does come?”

 

Toby went over to his parents and wrapped his arms around them, his face clouded with fear.

 

“Well, I’m not frightened,” declared Sarah, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “The Goblin King wouldn’t dare come here.”

 

Toby looked up at Sarah, eyes wide as his father spoke.

 

“Why not?  After all the trouble he went to get you at his castle?”  he gestured at her gown, “Why, look at your dress.  I can see that you weren’t treated like some common prisoner while you were in his company.  He must have some kind of partiality towards you.”

 

Sarah snorted.

 

“Yes, as a plaything to poke fun of and to infuriate and intimidate. He told me he was lonely, and thus I came to the castle.  Yet another one of his lies to provoke me for his own twisted enjoyment.”

 

Robert raised an eyebrow, unconvinced and still worried.

 

Karen gave a loud sniff.

 

“But will he come?” Karen asked.

 

“No,” replied Sarah decidedly, sitting down in one of the chairs, her back stiff and proud, “he wouldn’t dare.  He is entirely too proud.  I got through his Labyrinth with exceeding ease, not once but twice.”

Karen stared at her.

 

“You’re not frightened of him.”

 

It wasn’t a question.

 

Sarah snorted again and shook her head.

 

“No. Not for your reasons.”

 

A long silence pervaded the room.

 

The tea kettle began to whistle, breaking the heavy mood that had blanketed the room.

 

Karen bustled out of the room, calling to her step-daughter over her shoulder in an attempt to dissipate the dark cloud that had veiled the family’s initial pleasure at having their daughter return home.

 

“Sarah dear, Goblin King or not, you must go get changed into something more suitable for breakfast.  I can’t just stand by and let you ruin your pretty gown.”

 

Sarah opened her mouth to protest, to say that she wanted nothing more than to burn the dress, burn the reminder of _him_ , but wisely decided that it would be best to keep quiet. If worse came to worse, she could give it to Karen to tailor for herself or to cut up for some other use. Sarah sighed, shaking her head, and made her way up the familiar stairs that led to the second story of Appledore Cottage.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Several hours later, Sarah sat in the sun-drenched kitchen, Toby chattering away happily beside her, and Karen presiding over the creation of her famous caramels. Robert had gone to the village to do some errands, and to spread the news of Sarah’s return from the “viscountess” in Wolverston.

 

Karen had declared, once the shock of Sarah’s bold declaration of her disregard of the Goblin King’s ability to come and take Sarah away had subsided, that a party was in order to celebrate Sarah’s return.  Sarah, quite tired but very glad to be home, quietly assented, too weary to argue. Her head throbbed from lack of sleep. 

 

The party that Karen had proposed was to be a masked ball, to celebrate both Sarah’s return and the upcoming holiday of All-Hallows Eve.  Or, as Karen had later amended, as close to a proper ball as you can get in the country.

 

There was one old home in Bracknell Fen that could be considered to be a mansion, build many generations ago by a wealthy fur-trapper.  The mansion lay empty for many years after the man and his family had disappeared, due, as some townsfolk insisted, to the anger of a Sphinx, whose mate had been killed by the fur-trapper.  Rumors aside, the old home had been used by the town of Bracknell Fen as a meeting place and as a place for special occasions.  One of Robert’s errands whilst he was in town was to obtain the use of the home, the Dorian House, as the place for the party.

 

Karen had begun planning at once, deciding that her caramels were a must for the party, and as caramels took some time to make, and as the whole town was invited to the ball, she needed to start immediately if she was to have enough caramels for the party, which was in three days.  The rest of the morning had been devoted to planning for the party, thus inducing Sarah’s headache and weariness.

 

She excused herself from the proceedings in the kitchen and went out the back door, wrapping a shawl tightly around her shoulders to ward off the cool October air.  She wandered aimlessly around in the yard, glad of the cool air on her hot forehead. She walked a little ways into the forest, taking deliberate care to stay plain sight of the cottage.

 

Sarah sighed and leaned up against a tall evergreen.  She was inexpressibly glad to be home, but she felt a bit stifled at the present from all of the attention.

 

Her thoughts drifted to the Goblin King and to her bravado at expressing that he wouldn’t dare to come and take her back.  Sarah shivered.  Despite her bravado, some small part of her feared that this would come to pass, pride be damned.

 

“Damn you Goblin King,” Sarah groaned, passing a hand over her hot forehead, “why couldn’t you have just left well enough alone?  What a mess.  I’ll be forever looking over my back for fear of you coming to spirit me away.  Every time I see a black shadow or a damned white owl, I won’t be able to help but think of you.”

 

Sarah shivered again and pulled her shawl tighter around her body, making her way back to the cottage before Karen decided to send Toby out in search of her.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Miles away, in a castle at the center of the Labyrinth, a wickedly grinning fae with mismatched eyes and tousled blonde hair gazed into a crystal held in a gloved hand, his smile growing wider at the words of the girl with long brown hair in the crystal.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: It would be a bit of an understatement to say that I have had a busy two weeks since I last updated! School has been picking up pretty steadily, and I definitely am going to have a very busy October ahead of me! Anyways, I managed to get this written in between tests, papers, and projects!  I hope that everyone is having a great October, and that it is shaping up to be better than September!**

**I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter, (even though it is pretty much just setting up for something big, like the episode of LOST before the finale!), so please read and review! I love getting feedback!   Thanks to everyone who has already done so and who has added me to their favorite author/story lists, and to their story alerts!**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	20. A Face Will Still Pursue You

**Chapter 17, Part 1**

_ A Face Will Still Pursue You _

 

 _Masquerade!_  
Seething shadows, breathing lies . . .  
Masquerade!  
You can fool any friend who ever knew you!  
Masquerade!  
Leering satyrs, peering eyes . . .  
Masquerade!  
Run and hide - but a face will still pursue you!

_-“Masquerade” from the musical “Phantom of the Opera”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Karen, whilst in full planning mode, was quite the force to be reckoned with. Once she had completed the sticky ordeal that was the of the creation of her infamous caramels, Karen devoted her time to the concoction of other confectionary and baked goods, followed by the pièce de résistance of her cooking skills, her mouthwatering pecan pie.  Robert managed to obtain all the spirits and mead that would ensure a successful party, while Toby and Sarah charged with the cleaning and decoration of the Dorian House.

 

The house itself was a magnificent creation of pale rose-colored stone, with large mullioned windows and vaulted ceilings.  The floors were of a smooth well-worn marble, and the house was furnished with exquisite antique furniture. As beautiful as Sarah found the house, it made shivers run up and down her spine at the thought of the luxurious décor all around her, reminiscent of that of the castle at the center of the Labyrinth.  Reminders of the Goblin King seemed determined to haunt Sarah for the rest of eternity.

 

Time flew as the Williams family prepared for their lavish party, and before they could scarcely believe it, the day of the party had come.  Sarah spent all day with Greatheart ferrying wagonloads of goods from Karen at Appledore Cottage to Toby and Robert who were stationed at the Dorian House.  Once Karen had filled the wagon with the last of the fruits of her labor, she and Sarah made their way back over to the Dorian House, where Toby and Robert stood waiting in the doorway.

 

The family labored, readying the ballroom and setting up for that evening’s party, their voices echoing noisily throughout the vacant house.  Exhausted, the Williamses finally finished as twilight began to fall.  They quickly piled into the wagon and headed home to change for the party before their guests arrived.

 

Sarah trudged wearily up to her room, quite willing to forgo the party and sleep instead.  She sat down on the end of her bed and sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

 

Karen would never forgive her if she did such a thing.

 

Sarah snorted at the thought of Karen’s probable response and groaned as she forced herself to stand and walk over to where her dress hung on a hook on the wall.  It was the violet dress that she had been wearing when she left the Goblin King’s castle. Despite her best efforts to give the gown to Karen, her stepmother had flatly refused, telling Sarah in a slightly exasperated tone that the girl needed something, (case in point: the dress), to show the townsfolk that she had been away in Wolverston with an old widowed viscountess all this time instead of a cruel Goblin King in the center of the dark forest.  While the dress was beautiful as an evening gown, it wouldn’t quite do for a costume, so Sarah had sewn on scraps of silk and floaty illusion all over the dress in an attempt to make the dinner gown into a costume fit for a masquerade.

 

Sarah slipped into the gown, wrestling with the laces for a moment before she shook her hair out of its braids and caught it up with some jeweled pins.

 

“SARAH! TOBY! ARE YOU TWO READY YET?” Karen shrieked from the bottom of the stairs, impatience and excitement coloring her voice.

 

Sarah started and snatched up her mask (made up of bits and bobs of finery left over from her former life in the city,) and her shawl, making her way down the stairs, nearly running into Toby who dashed out of his room in front of Sarah, flying down the stairs in a streak of color.

 

Karen and Robert stood by the door, a pirate and piratess, both bundled up for the drive back to the Dorian House.  Toby was squirming into his coat, trying vainly to avoid crushing his tin armor and sword that he had fabricated, his helm sitting precariously on the back of a nearby chair.

 

Sarah picked up the hat and handed it to Toby, declaring in her most regal tone: “Your helm, sir knight.”

 

“ ‘Fanks,” Toby replied, his mouth clamped down on the collar of his coat as he eased his other arm into its sleeve.

 

“Finally,” said Karen exasperatedly, pulling on some gloves while gesturing her children out the door.

 

“Arg. Aye, aye Captain,” replied Sarah saucily, squinting an eye and making a hook with her finger as she passed through the door and out into the night.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Twenty minutes later, the Williamses stood in the entryway of the Dorian House, greeting all those who came to the party.  Sarah felt quite out of place, and slightly wicked as she repeated her false tales of life in the city with her “viscountess” to the unsuspecting townsfolk.

 

Sarah squirmed. 

 

She was becoming bored of her lies, uncomfortable at how easily they sprang to her lips.  In addition, her mask itched something terrible.

 

She surreptitiously itched under her mask as another group of people passed by into the ballroom and the next set of revelers came up to meet the family.

 

Rosie, the barmaid in the town pub, and her husband Murgon were next in line. Rosie emitted a little squeal of delight when she recognized Sarah, mask and all.

 

“Oh Sarah!  I cannot believe it, ooh, you are so lucky!  You will have to tell me all about your time in the city!  I didn’t have time to ask you about it before you left so suddenly! Ooh Sarah, you look so pretty…”  Rosie babbled on excitedly, her tawny curls bouncing up and down as she spoke. “Oh, and Karen, you have done a magnificent job of pulling together a party on such short notice! This will most certainly be one for the history books…”

 

Rosie grasped her husband’s arm and dragged him off to the ballroom, where most of the town was already congregated, dancing, eating and gossiping, still giggling and squeeing all the way.

 

Sarah let her mind wander as the stragglers made their way into the entrance hall.

 

She was startled out of her absentmindedness as someone spoke to her. She shook her head and looked confusedly at the newcomer.

 

It was Desmond, looking quite dapper in his highwayman costume.

 

“Sorry, what was that?” asked Sarah, blushing slightly at her inattention.

 

“I asked you what you were supposed to be tonight, besides beautiful?” Desmond repeated flirtatiously, looking huskily at Sarah from behind his lashes.

 

“Oh,” Sarah said, feeling slightly blasé and quite out of her element, “Tatiana. From the play.”

 

“My, the city did turn your head, didn’t it,” Desmond teased, giving Sarah a sly wink, “plays and ball gowns and fairy queens…tsk tsk tsk.”

 

He winked once more at her before exiting for the ballroom.

 

Sarah just shook her head, bemused.

 

By this time, the ballroom was very full, warmth and music spilling out into the foyer where Sarah and her family stood.

 

“Ooh,” squeaked Karen excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “I think that we can go in now!  Sarah dear, you just wait out here for a few more minutes just in case anyone else comes in.  C’mon you lot.” She grabbed Robert and Toby’s hands and pulled them into the throng within the ballroom.

 

Sarah sighed and resigned herself to waiting, slightly pleased that she didn’t have to go in and face everyone again in the ballroom, but conversely annoyed that she had to wait out in the drafty hallway.

 

She stood for a few minutes, absent-mindedly tracing her finger over the pattern in a side table when she heard the front door click open.  She straightened and turned to find none other than Hoggle standing sheepishly in the entrance hall, swirling his toe in the non-existent dust on the floor.

 

“Hoggle!” Sarah joyfully knelt and hugged her friend.  “It’s nice to see you!”

 

“Yeh too, Sarah.  Nice party. Awful lot of hooplah just to celebrate yeh comin’ back from the city.” 

 

He waved his hand to the doors leading into the ballroom, where figures swirled around on the dance floor.

 

“It is All Hallows Eve too, Hoggle,” Sarah reminded him gently, smiling widely at her diminutive friend.

 

“Yeh sure look pretty, Sarah.”

 

“Thanks Hoggle!  The dress was a gift from the viscountess.”

 

The lie felt wrong on her lips. It was something altogether different when she had to lie to Hoggle.

 

Hoggle stood silently for a moment, squirming uncomfortably as if he was wrestling with some thought.

 

“So…are you going to stay at the party?  I--”

 

Hoggle waved his hand to stop her, banishing her words.

 

“I knows where yeh were, Sarah.”

 

Sarah laughed lightly, her heart kicking up a beat. “Of course you do! Everyone knows that I was in Wovers--”

 

Hoggle’s expression made Sarah halted her words.  Her smile faded and worry lines creased her forehead as she spoke.

 

“Oh Hoggle, you know?  Truly? But how?”

 

“I just do.  An’ I don’t think that yer rid of him neither, no matter what yeh say or think.”

 

Sarah frowned.

 

“He won’t come here, Hoggle.”

 

Hoggle simply turned and walked over to the front door.  He paused with his hand on the latch, turning back to speak to Sarah.

 

“So says you.  It was nice seein’ yeh Sarah.  I hope that he don’t come back for yeh, but I knows he will.  He’s just bidin’ his time, mark my words.  He won’t give yeh up that easy.”

 

“Oh Hoggle, please stay!”  Sarah cried, stepping forward.

 

“I can’t.  I have some orders that I needs to get done.” 

 

He unlatched the front door, a careworn expression creeping onto his face as he turned to speak once more to Sarah.

 

“Plus, the Goblin King an’ I don’t get along very well.”

 

Sarah stood stock still in the entryway as the door clicked shut behind him.

 

Sarah felt cold, a feeling quite unconnected to the chill wind that had swept into the hall when Hoggle had left the house.  His words crept slowly through her consciousness as she fully tried to comprehended what he had said.

_I hope that he don’t come back for yeh, but I knows he will._

What if Hoggle was right?  What if the Goblin King _was_ just biding his time, waiting until the opportune moment to come and take her back to the castle at the center of the Labyrinth…that opportune moment perhaps being the night Bracknell Fen came out en masse to celebrate her return home!

 

Sarah gasped and clapped her hands reflexively over her mouth, backing quickly into the wall before furtively peering around the doorjamb into the ballroom, searching for a flash of pale blonde hair or the twirl of a black goblin-made cloak.

 

Sarah groaned.  She could hardly discern anything in the swirling crowd, or anyone for that matter, the masks took care of that.  A masked ball. Perfect cover for said Goblin King.

 

Sarah swore under her breath and made her way cautiously into the ballroom, plastering a vapid smile on her face as she did so, nodding and saying a polite hello to all those who greeted her as she passed.  Her eyes furiously scanned the crowd all the while, her heart racing.

 

Toby ran up to her and whacked her lightly with his sword.

 

“Hi-yah! Hey Sarah.  Fun party, innit?” He swished his sword around erratically for emphasis.  “Sure is a lot of people.  I didn’t know this many people even lived here.  I betcha some people came to the party who don’t even _live_ in Bracknell Fen!”

  
“Fancy that,” replied Sarah uncomfortably, still scrutinizing the crowd.

 

“Sarah, you’re acting real funny.  I think you need to dance.  People do that at balls.”

 

He tugged on her hand after he had carefully sheathed his tin sword.

 

“C’mon Sarah, dance with me!”

 

Sarah smiled fondly down at her brother, glad of his well-meant distraction from her worries.

 

“All right sir knight, let’s dance.”

 

The pair spun eccentrically around the dance floor, Toby chattering on and on about various people, while Sarah still searched desperately for her pursuer.

 

“Hey Sarah, hey, look at that guy!  He looks like a dragon or something!  And that lady there in the floofy pink dress!  Whaddya suppose she’s supposed to be?” Toby pointed out various people in the throng.

 

“Mmm…” murmured Sarah, feeling quite frightened and tired of the party.

 

“Pardon me, may I cut in?” A polite voice interrupted her thoughts.

 

“Oh hey Desmond,” said Toby cheerily, “Yeah, no problem.  I was gettin’ bored anyways.”

 

The small boy dropped Sarah’s hands and unsheathed his sword, diving off headfirst into the undulating crowd.

 

“I’m envious of your brother’s energy, Miss Sarah,” said Desmond, clasping Sarah’s hands in his own, turning them slowly around the room, “he had the energy of a goblin…can’t seem to stay in one place for too long without setting out on some adventure.

 

Sarah started at the mention of goblins before she composed herself.   Sarah personally thought that she herself had had enough adventures to last a lifetime.

 

“Oh! Oh, yes, he is quite the rambunctious kid, although I think that the sweets over there on the banquet tables are partially to blame for his enthusiasm tonight.”

 

They spun around slowly, in and out of the other pairs that populated the room.

 

“I’m glad that you’re back from the city, Sarah.  It was lonely here without you.”

 

 

“I am glad as well, Desmond.  I missed my home dreadfully, along with my family.  I-…oh!”

 

Sarah broke off suddenly as her eye caught a glimpse of a blonde-haired man who melted into the crowd as quickly as Sarah had glimpsed him. Sarah’s stomach churned. That almost looked like...but no…it couldn’t be…

_The Goblin King._

 

“Sarah! Sarah, what is it?”  Desmond asked concernedly, peering in the direction that Sarah was furiously searching.

 

“I-I’m sorry, I thought that I just saw…”

 

She trailed off, her thoughts wildly dancing around in her head as overzealously as the party-goers were.

 

“Forgive me,” said Sarah distractedly, curtseying to Desmond before stepping away, “I need some air.  Excuse me.”

 

“Farewell…” replied Desmond as Sarah slipped through the crowd, his words fading away as she made her way through the crowd in the general direction of the blonde-haired man.

 

Sarah reached the far wall of the ballroom but could not see _him_ anywhere, nor had she really expected to. He would be seen when he _wanted_ to be seen. Sarah groaned lightly and passed a hand over her forehead as she drifted over to the wall of windows, secluding herself in a curtained alcove.  She pressed her hot forehead against the cool plate-glass window in an attempt to lessen her feverish brow.  Her heart raced in her chest, keeping up with her churning thoughts.  The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. Sarah didn’t know how she knew, but she did.

 

_He’s here._

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Not far away in a shadowed corner of the ballroom, a man with flyaway blonde hair grinned wickedly from beneath his domino mask as he watched a distressed young woman in a violet gown slip into a curtained alcove, seeking rest bit from the party.  He murmured low to himself before giving himself over to silent chuckles.

 

“You’re no match for me Sarah.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN:  TA DA!  I can’t believe that I actually got this chapter up so fast!  (That may have been due partially to all the messages I got telling me how desperately they wanted the next update ASAP!)  This is a super long chapter, long in that it is split in to two parts, and long that this half of the chapter is 8 (word doc) pages, a new record for me!  Anyways, I hope that this long (and early!) chapter will tide everyone over until the 23 rd in the very least!  I will most definitely not be able to post next week (no matter how hard you beg!) as I will be having midterms next week.  (Projects and papers and tests, oh my!)  **

**Anyways, please read and review. I love getting reviews and responding to them personally.  I have gotten some really lovely reviews, and those always cheer me up! Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed or added me to your favorite stories/authors lists or to your story alerts!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	21. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Chapter 17, Part 2**

_ Something Wicked This Way Comes _

_  
_

_“Double, double toil and trouble,_  
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.  
Double, double toil and trouble,  
Something wicked this way comes.”

_-“Double Trouble” from the movie “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban”_

_(Inspired by Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”)_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

_Not far away in a shadowed corner of the ballroom, a man with flyaway blonde hair grinned wickedly from beneath his domino mask as he watched a distressed young woman in a violet gown slip into a curtained alcove, seeking rest bit from the party.  He murmured low to himself before giving himself over to silent chuckles._

_“You’re no match for me Sarah.”_

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Jareth was feeling quite wicked at the moment.  Almost _goblin-like,_ in fact.  He watched Sarah from the shadows as she slowly pieced together what was happening, first when she was talking with the dwarf, and after when she caught a glimpse of him when she was dancing with the overzealous whelp.

 

It was so amusing to Jareth that Sarah had actually thought that she had truly escaped him.  And to throw a party in celebration of her homecoming…it was just so tragically poetic that he had to laugh.

 

_Really Sarah, did you think that it would be so simple to forever cut me out of your life?_

Jareth smirked and emerged from his corner, ignoring the glances he received as he passed through the crowd.  Jareth sighed inwardly, exasperated.

 

Jareth could not help but feel a bit miffed that he stuck out in this crowd like a sore thumb.  What’s more, he stuck out at a _masked ball._ Oh the humility. Jareth had hardly thought of it before, but perhaps he _had_ gone a bit overboard with his disguise, or perhaps it was just the fact that he was a magical being, no matter how human he looked. 

 

_No matter._

 

He was here, and Sarah knew it, element of surprise be damned.

 

Jareth wove his way through the crowd to the spot where the dancers gave a wide berth, wherein a young boy with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes was waving a tin sword around, presumably fighting imaginary monsters, whacking anyone and everyone who got too close.

 

Jareth smiled.

 

_Perfect._

He broke through the dancers to the boy, who glanced up at Jareth has he approached, returning to his swordplay for a moment, and then doing a double-take, staring at Jareth.

 

“Woah…” said the boy, awestruck, “Cool armor.”

 

“Yours as well, young knight.”  Jareth smiled indulgently at the young boy, who continued to stare.

 

“Are you a real knight?” queried the boy, pushing up his tin helm as he looked up into Jareth’s face.

 

“No, I’m afraid I’m not.  Though it would be a most thrilling course of work, would it not?” 

 

Jareth knelt down to the boy’s level and removed his mask.  “Tell me, you are Sarah’s brother, are you not?”

 

“Yup,” he said proudly, puffing out his chest, “I’m Toby.”

 

“It is very nice to meet you, Sir Toby.  My name is Jareth.  I am an--” he paused, “--ah, old friend of your sister.”

 

He shook the boy’s hand, who beamed up at Jareth.

 

“Cool name.”

 

There was a short pause, perforated by the sounds of music and chatting couples, before Jareth spoke again.

 

“Toby, I was wondering if you would be willing to do a favor for me.” Jareth hedged, tugging absentmindedly on his gloves. “You see, I have not seen your sister in quite some time, and I would love to surprise her.”

 

“Sure,” piped Toby, unsheathing his tin sword in preparation of fighting his was through the crowd.  “How about I go get Sarah an’ take her to the entrance hall, an’ you can be there, waiting to surprise her!  Does that sound good, Jareth?”

 

“It sounds perfect, my dear boy. I shall go wait for her now.”

 

“Cool.” Toby turned and plunged headfirst into the fray of dancers, excited at the prospect of helping Sarah’s old friend surprise her.

 

Jareth grinned after the boy.  It was all too perfect.  He slipped through the unsuspecting townsfolk to go await his dear Sarah.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah emerged from her alcove, furtively looking around at the masked revelers. Sarah sighed and walked cautiously out, walking along the fringes of the dance floor, scanning the crowd. If _he_ really was here, she needed to get rid of _him_ as soon as possible before _he_ could cause any real mayhem.

 

_Damn you, Goblin King._

 

A small and rather shiny someone collided with her just as she passed the long banquet tables, forcing her to stumble backwards a few paces.

 

“Toby! What on earth are you doing?”

 

The boy grinned up at her, clearly excited at something.

 

“Sarah! Ya gotta come with me! I have a big surprise for you!”

 

“Do you now,” replied Sarah, raising an eyebrow at her younger brother, stifling her smile, “And what exactly is this surprise of yours?”

 

Toby grasped her hand and pulled, trying to force Sarah to move, who in turn refused to budge, grinning all the while at Toby like a Cheshire cat.

 

“SAH-RAH! C’MON! MOVE YOUR BUTT!”  Toby groaned as he futilely tugged on her arm.  “I can’t tell you, because it’s a _SURPRISE_.”

 

“Oh, all right. Begin thine quest, sir knight.” 

 

Sarah good-naturedly conceded, letting Toby lead her through the ballroom towards the doors to the entrance hall.  He stopped just before the doors, dropping Sarah’s hand and turning to his sister.

 

“You ready for your surprise?”

 

Toby and Sarah stepped through the doors and turned to the staircase that led to the second level.  Leaning insolently on the balustrade was a figure Sarah recognized immediately, clad in black goblin armor and a triumphant smirk. The man spoke, low and with an edge of danger underlying his words.

 

“Surprise.”

 

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Toby’s shoulder, propelling him towards the doors to the ballroom.

 

“Hey, Sarah…OW!”

 

“Go. Toby, go.  Leave, please.”  Sarah’s voice was steady, though her hands shook, betraying her fear and shock.

 

Toby grumbled and trudged back into the ballroom, throwing Sarah a dirty look before disappearing within its depths.

 

Sarah turned slowly back to the figure on the stairs, feeling his eyes boring into her back the whole while.  She stiffly inclined her head at him.

 

“Goblin King.”

 

“My dear Sarah.”  He pushed off from the balcony and strode forward to where the girl stood.  “May I suggest that we take our conversation somewhere more private?  I would hate for anyone to actually know the _truth_ around here…”  He gestured to a door in the entrance hall that led off into a side parlor.

 

Sarah brushed past him as she made her way into the room, tearing off her mask as she walked, flinging it onto a chair.

 

She heard the door click shut behind her, and she knew that she was in very, very deep trouble.  She turned slowly, glaring at the fae.

 

Jareth ignored her glare, walking further into the parlor, flinging himself dramatically into a wing-back chair, his legs dangling over the arm.

 

“Not a bad party, dearest, especially for a town in the middle of the country. Not bad…” he grinned impishly at Sarah, who still stood, glaring all the while.

 

“What are you doing here?  What did you say to Toby?  I swear, if you’ve harmed him in some way, Goblin King…” Sarah spoke coldly, through gritted teeth.

 

“Sarah. I really do not think that you are in any position to be making such threats.”

 

“What did you do to Toby?” reiterated Sarah, undeterred.

 

The Goblin King sighed and sat up straight in his chair as if her questions were unduly tiring to him.  “Nothing. I simply asked him if he could help me set up a meeting with you, and he obliged.”

 

“You stay away from him.”

 

Jareth ignored her.

 

“You look lovely tonight, Sarah.  I seem to remember you wearing that dress when you decided to leave my castle oh-so-suddenly last week.”

 

The Goblin King’s voice took on a slightly icy chill as he spoke. Sarah blanched.

 

“So I was.”

 

A stillness crept into the room as the two fell silent.

 

“What are you doing here?  Why are you doing this?  Why torment me?”

 

The Goblin King rose from his chair, but remained silent.

 

“You know, if papa hadn’t lost his ships and his business, we would never have come here to the country, to Bracknell Fen.  Papa would have never gotten lost in the forest, and never would have found your castle.  Never would have picked that rose.  None of this would have ever happened.”

 

“Is that so.”  The Goblin King spoke dryly, an edge creeping into his voice.

 

Sarah ignored him, continuing her lamentations.  “Oh, how I wish I--”

 

Sarah paused for a moment, lost in her sorrows.  Jareth turned his head, a frown forming on his lips.

 

“Wishes can be a dangerous thing, Sarah.”

 

“I wish…I wish…”  Sarah continued to ignore him, her mind off on a wild tangent.  “…I wish that you would go away, Goblin King.  Right now.”

 

The Goblin King grimaced for a moment before a wicked grin spread over his face.

 

“As you wish.”

 

And with that, he was gone.

 

Sarah stood absolutely still for a few moments before shakily sinking into a chair.

 

_As you wish._

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Sarah spent the rest of the party trailing Toby like a shadow, glancing over her back the whole time, half believing that the Goblin King hadn’t truly left at all, but was still following her, playing games with her already distraught mind.

 

Once the party had finally commenced in the early hours of the morning, and all the townsfolk had left, the Williamses locked the Dorian house and departed, quite eager to go home and collapse into bed.

Sarah trudged drowsily in through the front door of the cottage, retrieving a candle from the kitchen. She half-carried Toby up the stairs, depositing him on his own bed before going into her own room.  She closed the door softly behind her.  Sarah set her candle down on the chest of drawers before making her way blearily to the bed to turn down the covers.

 

The candle flickered out as a cool breeze swept through the room, lifting the curtains that framed the window.

 

Sarah didn’t remember leaving the window open.

 

The reason for Sarah’s window being open was leaning gracefully on the window ledge, a crystal twisting its way through his fingers.

 

The Goblin King had returned.

 

“Hello again Sarah.”

 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 **2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**  

**2009 AN: I’m back!  I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter! The next chapter will be posted on November 6 th, two Fridays from now!  (I am excited for the next chapter, as I have had it written since way back since like chapter 6!)  I am getting into the busy bit of the semester (I have a 22x30 drawing due every week for the first three weeks of November, and lots of tests, projects, and design projects coming up) so I ask you to not freak out if I don’t post a whole lot this November and first few weeks of December! Thanks to everyone who wished me luck on my midterms!  I am pretty sure that I kicked butt on both my tests, and I didn’t get any homework in my design class, which is a first!**

**Anyways, please read and review, it makes my day!  Thanks to those who have already done so, and thanks to those who have added me to their various favorite lists and to their author/story alerts!**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 


	22. A Dangerous Game

**Chapter 18**

_ A Dangerous Game _

_  
_

_“It’s a dangerous game!_

_A darker dream that has no ending,_  
That's so unreal you believe that it's true!  
A dance of death out of a mystery tale,  
The frightened princess  
Doesn't know what to do!

_-“Dangerous Game” from the musical “Jekyll and Hyde”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah’s blood ran cold.

 

“Lovely home you have.  Pity the garden is not any bigger.”  The crystal vanished in a puff of smoke and glitter.

 

Sarah faltered.  “What are you doing here? I thought I…but…”  She trailed off, nervously observing the dangerously calm look on the king’s face.

 

He took a step forward, pushing off from the dresser.

 

Sarah walked over to her bed and sat down, desperately trying to ignore the Goblin King’s stately approach.

 

“Sarah…” Jareth picked up a corner of the quilt on her bed, fingering the frayed edge.  “What part of forever do you not understand?”

 

“Forever?” said Sarah in a hollow voice, avoiding the steady gaze of the fae at the end of her bed.

 

“Yes dearest, forever.  As in the length of time that you are to stay at my castle.”  He paused.  “You know,” Jareth said, his voice dripping with its honeyed tone, “it’s not long at all, love.  Forever, I mean.”

 

Sarah got up from the bed and strode over to the open window, flinging it shut with a snap.  Without turning around, Sarah spat back a retort.

 

“And what is your basis for comparison, Goblin King?  What is forever to you? You who has no heart! You don’t know how my heart aches for my family!”

 

Sarah spun around, the moonlight from the window crowning her dark hair with a milky halo.

 

The Goblin King frowned as Sarah raged on.

 

“Each day seems longer than the last, each hour passing slower and slower, every sunrise later than the dawn before.  A monotonous procession of days, with me in my prison of imposed solitude, save for when you deem it necessary to torment and aggravate me!”

 

Eyes blazing and chest heaving, Sarah stared down her adversary, who stood across the room, facing her in equal distaste.

 

Sarah wasn’t quite sure what she had thought that the Goblin King was going to do, but it was not even remotely close to what he did next.

 

He laughed.  A terribly mirthless and sarcastic chuckle, devoid of any humor whatsoever.

 

“Oh how you exaggerate, my dear.  Always the drama queen, are we not? ‘Every day longer than the last,’ what bollocks.”  He sat himself down smartly on the bed, leaning forward to sneer at Sarah. “The tormenting has just begun, princess.  You have not even remotely seen how cruel I can be.” 

 

He arched an eyebrow. “Your little stunt here, however, will ensure that you do.”

 

“I hate you.” 

 

Sarah bit out the words, low and abhorrent.

 

“Good.” Jareth fumed, leaping up from the bed, closing the distance between the two in a few strides. “Hate is a passionate emotion.”

 

He grasped her upper arms in a vice-like grip.

 

“Let go of me.”

 

“Now why would I want to do that?”  Jareth mused, cocking his head mockingly.

 

“You have no right--”

 

“I have every right!”

 

Sarah shrank back from the force of his anger.

 

“You came to my castle to pay the debt your father accrued from his bumbling mistake, on the terms that you would never, ever leave, that you would stay in my castle for all time.  And yet you leave, disobeying my orders and tarnishing the deal we made in the midst of your father’s treachery.”

 

“And I came because you forced my hand, to be your tormented plaything.”

 

“Your father was prepared to come in your stead.”

 

Sarah snorted.  “And you would have driven him insane, I am sure, with all of your medieval mind games.”

 

“I would have sent him home.”  Jareth said, quietly.

 

Sarah froze. 

 

“ _What?”_

Jareth dropped his hands guiltily to his sides, releasing Sarah.

 

“If your father had come in your stead, I would have sent him back the moment he set foot on the palace grounds.”

 

“You bastard!”  She tried to slap him, but was foiled by his gloved hand grasping her wrist before she made contact.

 

“I can assure you that I am not.”  Jareth gave Sarah an impish grimace. “My parents were happily married when they had me.”  

 

“Why do you imprison me if you were going to let my father go? Free me!”

 

“I cannot.”  He let out a humorless chuckle, coupled with a dark look. “You see, I am under a curse of sorts, as I’m sure you have no doubt heard from that dwarf friend of yours, and the dissolution of this curse requires the involvement of a lady.”

 

“So you use me.” Sarah spat, “Why don’t you just tell me what part I need to play in this curse of yours, and have done with it!”

 

“I cannot tell you what you must do.  But I can assure you that you would not like it if you did know.”

 

Jareth took a placating step backward and gestured to Sarah.  “Go ahead.  Guess at what kind of terrible curse was placed upon me by a sorceress who was appalled at my cruelty and lack of heart.  Guess your part in this sorry tale.”

 

Sarah’s eyes narrowed as it all fell into place in her mind.

 

“Never,” Sarah whispered, fury burning behind her word.

 

“What a pity.”  Jareth grabbed her arm once more and with a clap of thunder and a shimmering mist, they were back once more at the castle at the center of the Labyrinth.

 

“Sarah.”

 

Sarah stood blinking, trying to shake off the disconcerting feel of magic, ignoring Jareth as she tried to gather her bearing.

 

“I ask so little of you.”

 

Sarah gave an angry groan and shoved herself away from the Goblin King, taking in her surroundings with antipathy.

 

“Just fear me.  Love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave!”

 

“I will do nothing of the sort.”

 

Jareth gave a derisive snort and strode away from Sarah, turning to lean his arm upon the window frame, gazing blindly out over his domain.

 

“You will learn to love me.  I will make you love me.”  He twisted to look coldly over his shoulder at Sarah, who stood motionless by the hearth.

 

“Threats can’t make me love you.  Human hearts don’t work that way.”  Sarah whispered, her eyes both angry and pleading.

 

“Human hearts,” Jareth snarled, stalking back over to where Sarah stood, roughly grasping her arms and giving her a little shake. “What care I for human hearts?”

 

A look of pure rage and indignation stole over Sarah’s face.  She tore herself out of Jareth’s grasp, her teeth gritted as she spat back his words.

 

“What do you care for human hearts?” Sarah said, in a sarcastic tone, “What do _you_ care…ugh!  Only the fact that you are forcing your sick, twisted love upon one such heart.”

 

She raised an eyebrow with a sardonic air.  _“That_ , Goblin King, is what you care for human hearts.”

 

Jareth froze, his eyes full of what Sarah could only presume was intense, undeniable hatred.

 

“Sarah. Don’t defy me.”

 

“How _dare_ you.”  Sarah bit out, stalking over to him until they were inches apart. “From the first moment I stepped inside this castle, your arrogance and conceit, your cruelty made it transparently obvious that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to love.”

 

They stood still for a moment, Sarah, her chest heaving with emotion, and Jareth, a cruel grin spreading across his face, baring his sharp teeth.

 

Sarah took an involuntary step back.

 

“Aah, but you see love, I am not just a man.”  Jareth took one long stride towards Sarah, who retreated further.

 

Jareth gave a casual flick of his gloved wrist, a crystal appearing in its wake. Magic crackled in the air, making the candlelight flicker.

 

Sarah muttered a low curse as she saw the crystal, candlelight reflecting off of its pristine surface, as she managed to put a table between her and Jareth’s advancing steps.

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, such a foul mouth you have, my dear.”  He smiled wolfishly down at Sarah. “I’m afraid we may need to remedy that.”

 

The crystal was extinguished with a puff of purple smoke and a cascade of glitter as Jareth planted his hands firmly on the table between him and Sarah.

 

“And how would go about accomplishing that feat, your highness?” Sarah quipped, realizing how unwise her statement was only after it had left her lips.

 

One delicately arched eyebrow rose exceedingly high on the face of one Goblin King.

 

“I am sure that I could think of some way,” he mused, one hand reaching up to thoughtfully tap his cheek as the other cupped his elbow.

 

Sarah gave an indignant yelp as the table between them collapsed into nothing but smoke, undulating as Jareth stalked forward towards her.

 

Sarah rapidly retreated until she felt her back hit the wall. Silent curses tumbled around in her mind as Jareth planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head.

 

“Now what have we here?”  Jareth asked, his wolfish grin still fixed into place.

 

“A smug bastard of a Goblin King, methinks,” retorted Sarah waspishly, glaring at Jareth, “Who is annoying the ever-living hell out of me.”

 

“My dear,” said Jareth, cupping her chin, “ _methinks_ you are terribly mistaken.”  He leaned in slightly, his eyes sly, “ _I_ see a frightened princess, who does not know what to do.” He stroked a soft curl of her hair.

 

Sarah jerked her head back, trying to break free.

 

“Get off of me,” Sarah growled, her cheeks flushed.

 

Jareth leaned in a bit more, smirking as Sarah tried to draw back even further, wall or no wall.

 

He regarded her reaction with great interest, and tilted his head, whispering huskily in her ear.

 

“As you wish.”

 

He stepped back, hands dropping casually to his sides, as if he had not just been harassing Sarah.

 

Sarah stood still for a moment, still melded to the wall before she brushed furiously past him, petulantly calling back to him over her shoulder as she strode out of the room.

 

“You have no power over me, Goblin King.”

 

Jareth just threw back his head and laughed.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

END PART 2

 

`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it! *Sigh* Again with the chapter splitting and the story parts. This must have been (now 20-year old) me trying to be all collegiate.**

**2009 AN: Hey there folks!  I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! (Methinks Jareth had too much fun this chapter!)  I have had this one written for quite some time (around chapter 6, I think, which I wrote way back at the end of May!) and it was one of my favorites to write! I wonder how many of you recognized some of the quotes in here that I pulled from other movies? Obviously this chapter is pretty heavy with Labyrinth quotes, but how about another glittery 80’s movie: “Legend.” (With a very young Tom Cruise in very short gold armor) The quote (“Human hearts don’t work that way” “What care I for human hearts?”) is taken from a part when Cruise’s character is arguing with Oona, a fairy who has fallen in love with him.  It fit so perfectly, I couldn’t resist!  Another 80’s movie quote that I hid in here is from the Princess Bride!  R.O.U.S.s to all those who recognized it! I also borrowed some lines from another iconic couple in both literature and the silver screen, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth! If you couldn’t already tell, I had a lot of fun with this chapter!**

**On to business:**

**As I’ve told you all before, the school semester is drawing to a close, and thus I am all kinds of busy right now! None the less, I will try my damndest to keep up with writing, but don’t be surprised if I don’t get the next couple of chapters up right away.  I haven’t quite figured out where I want the story to go from here, and I need to go back and re-read old chapters so I can create a cohesive story. I frankly don’t have a whole lot of time to do that at the moment, but I will still try to get the chapters up on time!  Anyways, hopefully the next chapter will be up on November 20 th!**

**Anyways, please read and review, it makes my day!  Thanks to those who have already done so, and thanks to those who have added me to their various favorite lists and to their author/story alerts!  Everyone has been so kind, and I really appreciate it!**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 


	23. Like Faust

**PART 3**

**Chapter 19**

_ Like Faust _

_  
_

_“My mind has touched the farthest horizons_

_of mortal imagination and_

_reaches outward to embrace infinity._

_There is no knowledge beyond my comprehension,_

_no art or skill upon this entire planet that_

_lies beyond the mastery of my hand._

_And yet, like Faust, I look in vain…_

_for as long as I live,_

_no woman will ever look upon me in love.”_

_-“Phantom” by Susan Kay_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah awoke, sunlight streaming in through the windows.  She blinked a few times in the sunlight and groaned, flopping over onto her stomach and burying her head under the pillows on her bed.

 

Wait a minute…

 

Sarah hastily unburied her head from the pile of pillows and stared at the room around her.  Of course. She was back at the castle at the center of the Labyrinth.

 

She buried her head once more in the pillows as memories from the previous night flooded into her mind.  She remembered everything, the ball, her terror at realizing that the Goblin King was at the ball, actually seeing him there, and her supposed banishment of the Goblin King.  Silly Sarah, however, could have never guessed that the Goblin King would have actually come to her home to take her away.

 

Sarah also remembered her confrontation with the king at her home, and at the castle.

 

His curse…Sarah had forgotten all about his curse.  Hoggle had told her about it what now seemed to be forever ago, before she had walked in the forest and seen the Goblin King as an owl, before her father had gotten lost and then found himself at the castle of said Goblin King.  Before she took her father’s place as the Goblin King’s captive for all eternity.

 

_“It’s said that he be under a terrible curse, cast by an enchantress.  It is not clear how he offended her, but it must have been truly terrible, for he can’t remove the curse, even with his own powerful magic.”_

How could she have forgotten?

 

She should’ve known from the moment she saw him at the ball. Why would the Goblin King go to such great lengths to keep her there at the castle?  Why not keep one of the wished-away children until they are old enough to break the spell…but no…it has to be Sarah.  Sarah Williams, who has a family, a home, and up until recently, a life free of mythical creatures and magic.

 

_Damn you, Goblin King!_

After all of the Goblin King’s insisting that she would learn to love him, Sarah was almost positively certain that such an event would never be possible, not after what he had done to her, and what he had taken away, not once, but twice. The nerve of him…he may have the power to take away her freedom, but the Goblin King would never be able to conquer her heart, never have the power to make her love him.  Never.

 

Sarah got up and went over to the window seat, gazing moodily out at the snow that had begun falling sometime during the night, loosing herself in the swirling flakes.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

_The room was empty, sunlight streaming in from the single window that faced west over the dark forest. The bed was perfectly made, the quilt pulled smooth and taught over the mattress.  On the far side of the room sat a chest of drawers, upon which stood a burnt-out candle.  The floor by the window was strewn with leaves, evidence that the window had been open at some point during the night._

_A knock on the door breaks the still calm in the room.  The door is swung hesitantly open, and Karen walks into the room, a cup of tea in steaming in her hands.  She calls Sarah’s name softly as she enters.  Her eyes quickly take in the empty room, the leaves on the floor, the perfectly-made bed.  The teacup smashes to the floor, tea spreading over the well-worn planks.  Karen lets out a pained cry and covers her face with her hands._

_On Sarah’s pillow is a single blood red rose._

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

An hour later, Sarah still sat on the window seat, sulking primarily, and cursing the general everlasting nature of “forever.”  It just wasn’t fair.

 

Her stomach gave a loud rumble, making Sarah jump, startled by the sound. Sarah chuckled, amused somewhat by her jitters.

 

Groaning slightly as she got up, Sarah made her way stiffly over to the wardrobe, and eased her arms out of her costume, which she hadn’t bothered taking off before collapsing into bed the night before.  She changed into a simple frock, and took all the pins out of her hair, massaging her aching head as she let her hair stream freely down her back. Sarah slipped her feet into soft kidskin boots, and made her way over to the door of her room.

 

Sarah pried open the door and peered into the hallway.  Sarah felt slightly silly for doing this, but justified her actions by reminding herself of exactly whose castle she was in. She ventured carefully through the silent hallways to the lower level of the castle, hoping that she’d correctly guessed where the kitchen was.

 

Sarah eased open the big wooden door to the kitchen, candles flickering to life as the door swung open.

 

The kitchen was very homey and warm, with the smell of spice and dried herbs permeating the room.

 

As Sarah crossed the threshold, various pots, pans, and other cookware began to rattle and clatter, as if readying themselves to cook her lunch.

 

“Oh!” said Sarah, raising a hand as if to stop them, “No, I’d rather like to cook for myself this once, thanks.  Keep my mind preoccupied, you know…”  Sarah trailed off, feeling rather silly for talking to pots and pans.

 

Sarah set to work, rummaging around in the cabinets for food and utensils, while setting a pot of water on the stove to boil.  She started cutting vegetables, dumping them into the pot of boiling water.  She found some beef and added it to her brew, trying to replicate, as best she could, her father’s favorite soup.  Sarah thought that she was succeeding, because the smells emanating from the pot were very homey indeed.

 

After a half-hour of fussing over her cooking, Sarah decided that she ought to try the soup, to see if she had indeed succeeded in replicating the soup. She grabbed a wooden spoon and dipped it into the steaming pot, lifting it halfway to her lips, before a voice spoke suddenly from behind her.

 

“Mmm…that smells good.”

 

Sarah dropped the spoon into the stew, anger coursing through her veins. She straightened up, her back stiff, steeling herself for the person she knew was behind her. Sarah sighed, aggravated, and turned, crossing her arms as she did so.

 

“Go away.”

 

“What, and miss out on this lovely-smelling brew you have concocted? Not a chance.”

 

“It’s mine.  You can’t have any.” Sarah replied petulantly.

 

“Tis my castle,” Jareth replied smoothly, seating himself easily at the large hewn-oak table, “It is also my kitchen, my food, and my cooking utensils. It should be I, not you, dictating whether or not someone can or cannot have this soup.”

 

Sarah just grunted in response, and turned back to the soup, fishing the spoon out and tasting the soup.  She hadn’t recreated the soup perfectly, but she’d come pretty damn close.

 

“You’re insufferable.”  Sarah muttered.

 

“I’ll take that as a complement.”

 

Sarah banged around in the cupboards for a bit before she found two bowls and two spoons.  She dished up the soup and walked over to the table, plunking one bowl down in front of Jareth, who didn’t seem to mind the soup sloshing out of the bowl a bit as it hit the table. Sarah walked half-way around the table, not too keen on sitting too close to the Goblin King, and sat her soup down on the table with a little more control, sinking into her chair with all the dignity she could possess.

 

They ate in silence for a few moments, the steam rising up from the soup wafting warmth and pleasant aromas around the room.

 

Jareth gave a little sigh of contentment and set down his spoon, his bowl scraped clean. 

 

“I must say, Sarah, your culinary skills are delightful.  I do not know when I have last tasted such delicious soup.”

 

“Thank you,” replied Sarah stiffly, blowing on a spoonful of soup to cool it off.

 

Jareth frowned at Sarah’s icy tone.

 

“Sarah, it was not my fault that you decided to run away from the castle. That was of your own doing. You alone caused your own misery.”

 

“Right,” Sarah retorted sarcastically, carefully laying her spoon down on the table.  “Since I’m the one who provoked you into tormenting me, forced myself into coming to your castle, and forced myself to return here again after I had gone home! You’re right Goblin King, it is all _my_ fault.”

 

Jareth raised a perfectly-arched eyebrow at Sarah’s sarcasm, matching it with his own, “I am glad you are starting to see things my way.”

 

Sarah groaned and walked over to the sink, setting her bowl down in the soapy water with a muffled clatter.  She turned back to the table and the smug Goblin King who sat there.

 

“So is this how it is going to be until the end of time?  Me, stuck in this castle with you, perpetually arguing? You coming to fetch me back every time I try to run away?”

 

“No. You could break the spell.” Jareth replied quietly, walking over to where Sarah stood, setting his bowl in the sink with hers. He walked until he was very close to Sarah, looking down at her face, vestiges of hope seeping through his calculated demeanor.

 

“I’m afraid that the chance of that ever happening is slim at best, Goblin King.”  Sarah breathed, her face drawn and weary. 

 

Jareth blinked slowly and backed away from Sarah, his hard mask returning.

 

“Then yes, this is how it is going to be until the sands of time cease to flow, Sarah dearest.  Once again, you have sealed your fate.”

 

Sarah took a few steps back, never breaking eye contact with Jareth.

 

“You’re heartless.”

 

“I am quite sure they will say so.”  Jareth replied coldly, gazing dispassionately away from Sarah.

 

“I hate you.” 

 

Sarah turned on her heel and stormed from the room, leaving Jareth standing alone in the kitchen.  He bowed his head slightly and turned to leave the kitchen through another entrance, murmuring mournfully as he left.

 

“As do I.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah sat in her room, fuming, something that seemed to occur alarmingly often here at the castle.  Sarah passed a hand over her face, breathing deeply and counting down backwards from ten in her head.  Feeling slightly better, Sarah fetched her cloak, spinning it around her shoulders, deciding that a nice long walk would be beneficial to her stress levels.

 

Snow crunched lightly under Sarah’s feet as she wandered aimlessly through the great lawn, in and out of gardens, orchards, and small meadow clearings. She ignored the falling twilight, continuing deeper and deeper into the vast lawns of the castle, the trees thickening in density as she continued, determined to say away from the castle for as long as humanly possible.

 

Darkness had fallen by the time Sarah had grudgingly decided that it was time to return to the castle.  Goblin King or not, Sarah was loath to run into his goblins again, especially now that it was dark.

 

Sarah spun around, trying to glimpse the castle lights through the dark trees. Nothing.

 

Sarah’s heart gave a little fearful leap and began to beat very fast. She couldn’t be lost! Sarah spun wildly once more and plunged off into the trees, hoping desperately that she was going in the right direction. After several more minutes of fighting her way through the trees, an earthen path presented itself to Sarah, who followed it without a second thought as to where it might lead. Sarah walked on and on, cold seeping into her bones as the darkness became more complete.  Sarah paused, looking at the strange, tall hedges that now flanked the path, stretching forwards for a few yards before it turned left.  Sarah looked over her shoulder and saw the hedges extend behind her some ways before encountering an intersecting path.

 

A twig snapped, sending Sarah scurrying ahead, twisting and turning through the hedge maze, blindly hoping to make her way back to the castle. Abruptly, Sarah stopped, looking at the hedges.  Her heart jumped into her throat, and Sarah let out a soft moan of terror.

 

Not only had she managed to get lost, Sarah had gotten lost in the _Labyrinth._

 

“Damn, damn, damn,” Sarah cursed, continuing through the maze, silently praying that she would manage to find her way out without running into any goblins, or worse, any of the monsters that the Goblin King had placed in the Labyrinth to protect the way to his castle.

 

Just as this thought had passed through Sarah’s mind, another twig snapped, this time sounding from behind her.  Sarah whirled around, desperately searching the darkness for any sign of goblins…or worse.

 

Blood pumped loudly in Sarah’s ears as she tried to peer through the darkness, her breath rising from her lips in white clouds.

 

Leaves and snow crunched as the unknown something drew nearer.

 

The creature stepped into the moonlight which pooled on the ground, standing poised to strike mere yards from where Sarah stood.

 

Sarah screamed.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 **2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN:  Yeah, I know.  They fought over soup.  Sometimes, I like make Sarah and Jareth do silly like that!  Oh, and about the soup, I have no clue how to make home-made soup. Canned soup is about as technical as I get!  Anyways, I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter!  (What am I saying…everyone loves a little J/S in their life!)  I also took Sarah’s advice this past weekend and took a break in doing my homework and took a walk!  I didn’t end up in the Labyrinth, but I did end up finding quite a few beautiful houses that are near campus!  And yes, it did wonders to my stress levels! I also found the perfect time to write chapters of this fic--laundry time!**

**Next chapter will hopefully (fingers crossed!) be posted December 4 th!  (I’m so terribly cruel, leaving you all on a cliffhanger! Sorry!  It’s too much fun not to!)   I’m super-busy of late (Thanksgiving break next week and only two more weeks of class after that!)  So forgive my lateness in replying to reviews! I like to reply personally to each one, just to show how grateful I am.**

 

**Anyways, please read and review, it makes my day!  Thanks to those who have already done so, and thanks to those who have added me to their various favorite lists and to their author/story alerts!  Everyone has been so kind, and I really appreciate it!**

 

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	24. Hatred and Love

 

**Chapter 20**

_ Hatred and Love _

_  
_

_“It is a curious subject of_

_observation and inquiry, whether_

_hatred and love be not_

_the same thing at the bottom.”_

_-“The Scarlet Letter” by Nathaniel Hawthorne_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Jareth was loath to admit it, but he was moping.  It wasn’t one of his kingliest moments, to be sure, but he felt that he had good cause to sulk.  He was under a curse, and the girl whom he thought had had the potential to break said curse hated him, most dispassionately, as he had been told on several occasions.

 

Jareth stared into the flickering flames enclosed in the handsome marble fireplace, sinking lower and lower into his wing-back chair.  He thought that he should perhaps forgo dinner tonight. His mood was far from pretty at the moment, and he felt quite certain that eating dinner with a being as loathsome as him would be the last thing that Sarah wanted right now.

 

His brow softened when he thought of Sarah.  He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know why, but he loved her. How wretched it was that she would never love him in return.

 

Jareth conjured up a crystal, curious as to what Sarah was up to at the moment, especially since things had ended badly earlier during the day, what with the whole soup fiasco.

 

As the cool crystal touched his fingertips, Jareth felt his heart stir in a painful sort of way.  The smoky haze in the crystal cleared, revealing nothing but inky blackness. Jareth frowned, bemused by this turn of events.  But no, there was some movement in the darkness, Sarah whirling around, the terror on her face illuminated by the shining moon.  She screamed.

 

Jareth jumped up from his chair, his garments flowing smoothly into his imposing black goblin armor.  All his mind could process was that Sarah was in trouble.  _His_ Sarah.

 

He transformed into an owl and was flying in the direction in the span of time it took to blink an eye.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah took a few hasty steps back, trying to put as much distance between her and the approaching creature.

 

The creature stepped slowly into the moonlight, a pair of naked human feet emerging, followed by legs and torso.  On the human shoulders, however, sat the head of a bull. A Minotaur, the mythical guardian to the Labyrinth.

 

Sarah smothered a gasp and continued to retreat.  She felt sharp sticks and twigs jab into her spine as she backed up into the hedge wall.  Sarah quickly glanced to her right and left, looking for an escape route.  Nothing presented itself.  Sarah had managed to back herself into a dead end with an angry Minotaur blocking the exit. This was just peachy.

 

The Minotaur continued to advance, unfazed by Sarah’s scream, its sharp claws glistening in the moonlight.

 

Sarah shrank back, trying to force her way through the hedge. Impossible, of course. The creature grunted and swung a clawed arm at Sarah. 

 

Sarah ducked, shrinking in her fear.  The Minotaur swung again and took another step, but slipped somewhat on the icy ground and staggered off to one side.  Sarah seized this opportunity and dashed past the Minotaur, who swung out at her as she passed, snagging his claws on her cloak as she dashed by, effectually ripping it to shreds.

 

Sarah ran as if her life depended on it, which of course in this situation, it did. She heard the Minotaur bellow, angered that his quarry had escaped him, and the rumbling of the ground as the beast dashed off in pursuit.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Far above the Labyrinth, a large white owl flew on deadly silent wings, golden eyes searching desperately for any sign of Sarah.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah ran, twisting and turning frantically through the maze of hedges, desperately trying to get away from the advancing beast.  Sarah ran on for a few more minutes and then paused, slowing a little and listening hard for any sound of the Minotaur.  Nothing.  No twigs snapping or feet pounding mercilessly on the frozen ground. Sarah slowed down, creeping through the dark, peering carefully around each corner as she went.

 

Sarah peered around an opening in the hedge  and was met with a very close view of the Minotaur, who did not see Sarah, but was sniffing the air and throwing his head from side to side in an attempt to hear her.  Sarah quickly covered her mouth with her hands, hoping desperately that the beast had not heard her breathing.  She backed away slowly as the Minotaur vanished around a corner of the maze. Sarah slowly let her hands drop from her lips and turned to steal back through the Labyrinth.

 

The Minotaur was standing there.  Clearly the beast knew the Labyrinth like the back of his clawed hand, unlike Sarah, who shrieked in surprise and fright.

 

At that moment, a white owl flew down between the terrified girl and the savage Minotaur, transforming into the imposing figure of the Goblin King as it neared the ground.

 

The Goblin King faced the Minotaur, his cloak billowing.  He spoke without turning to face Sarah.

 

“Sarah, are you all right?”

 

It took Sarah a few moments before she could find her voice.

 

“I-I think so, yes.”

 

The Goblin King turned his attention to the Minotaur.

 

“I thank you, Minotaur, for protecting my Labyrinth, but this girl is of no danger. Please go about your way. Your services are no longer required for this situation.”

 

The Minotaur grunted a bit, the grunts turning to words.

 

“Your Labyrinth, Goblin Master?  Nay, tis my Labyrinth, mine to guard and protect.  I found this girl wandering in my precious Labyrinth, where she ought not be, and I shall dispose of her as I see fit.”

 

The Minotaur began to advance once more, claws glistening.

 

“Very well then.  If you choose to defy my orders, then you will be destroyed.  Such a pity.”

 

Jareth waved his gloved hand through the air, a crystal appearing it its wake.

 

The Minotaur bellowed and began to charge the Goblin King, who raised his arm to throw the crystal, but was hindered by his cloak.  The Minotaur reached out and cruelly slashed the Goblin King, who let out a moan of pain, grasping his left arm. He fell to his knees, the crystal in his hand smashing uselessly to the ground.

 

Sarah screamed and took a few steps forward, as if she planned on helping the fallen Goblin King.

 

“No. Stay.”  Jareth grunted, conjuring another crystal with some difficulty.

 

The Minotaur laughed, a cruel, animalistic laugh, and spoke, looming over Jareth.

 

“You cannot defeat me, cursed one, for I am Master of the Labyrinth, and I--”

 

The creature’s eyes grew wide as a crystal smashed into its chest, sending a swirling, shimmering mist over the creature.  The Minotaur shivered and then vanished, Jareth standing with some effort in the swirling mist. 

 

Sarah gasped, too shocked to move from where she was standing.

 

Jareth turned slowly to face Sarah, gripping his injured arm as if it pained him greatly.  His grinned lopsidedly at Sarah for a moment before he collapsed to the ground, motionless.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Jareth slowly became aware of his surroundings.  He was laying on a chaise lounge, feeling quite warm and comfortable, save for his left arm, which ached something terrible.

 

A small cool hand holding a damp cloth passed over his face, wiping the feverish sweat from his brow.  Jareth cracked an eye open, looking up to see Sarah holding the cloth, looking at Jareth with a worried look.

 

“Mmmmwhat happened?”  Jareth mumbled, trying to sit up.  Sarah shoved him gently back down on to the chaise.

 

“Don’t move.  You’re hurt, if you can’t already tell.”

 

Jareth waved her off and grunted as he forced himself into a sitting position. Sarah threw her hands up into the air, exasperated.

 

“Fine then, don’t listen to me.  It’s not as if I dragged you all the way back here, unconscious and bleeding.”

 

Jareth tenderly probed his bandaged arm and winced.

 

“I would not have become unconscious, nor would I have bled if you had not needed saving.”

 

Sarah threw down her rag into the bowl of steaming water sitting next to the chaise lounge.

 

“I wouldn’t have needed saving if you would have just left me alone and let me stay with my family, free of all this magic nonsense.”

 

Jareth narrowed his eyes and said nothing.  Sarah stared defiantly back at him her chin raised high and proud. After a few moments of this, Sarah’s resolve softened and she dropped her eyes to the bowl of water at her feet.

 

“By the way, thank you, Jareth, for saving my life.”  Sarah spoke quietly, retrieving the cloth from the water, wringing it out.

 

Jareth’s haughty demeanor vanished, replaced by surprise, gratitude, and hope.

 

“You are most welcome, Sarah.”  He slid back so that he was lying down on the chaise once more.

 

Sarah just smiled and went back to nursing the Goblin King.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009** **AN: Short and sweet chapter this week!   I hope that everyone enjoys it! I’ve been really busy lately, especially since I only have one more week of classes left (then finals week…ugh) but I like having my little fic as a distraction for me when I just need a break from homework!  (That and the DVDs for LOST and True Blood!)**

**Anyways, please read and review! I really makes my day! Thanks so everyone who has already reviewed, and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	25. The Courage of a Rose

**Chapter 21**

_ The Courage of a Rose _

_  
_

_“ And so I sat there, like the mouse in Aesop’s fable,_

_not daring to look upon the lion bound by cruel ropes._

_Chained by fate and shackled by pride, he stared in silent pain;_

_And because I lacked the courage of a rose,_

_I could not set him free.”_

_-“Phantom” by Susan Kay_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The days sped by, November passing by in such a blur that Sarah was quite surprised to find that it was the middle of December.  She hadn’t thought that she had been at the castle at the center of the Labyrinth for that long, but the days had sped by in their own unrelenting way. 

 

Neither Sarah nor Jareth had spoken of the incident with the Minotaur, as both were loath to break the shaky truce that had been erected in the wake of the event.  Both parties treated the other with complete civility, speaking only polite words and subtle compliments. 

 

Sarah had found that she came to look forward to dinner with the fae king, anticipating his company and smart conversations.  If she and Jareth ever randomly ran into the other somehow in the castle during the day, Sarah was bemused to find that a little bud of joy would blossom in her breast, and a smile would spring easily to her lips.

 

Sarah was frightened of this transformation within her.  It couldn’t be that she was starting to warm up to the Goblin King, her captor, her enemy.  This was just not how it was done.  She was the protagonist in this story, and he the antagonist, the villain.  Stories didn’t work this way. 

 

Sarah sighed.

 

She was being unfair to the Goblin King.  To Jareth.  He’d _changed_ somehow since the Minotaur incident, and here she was, still treating him in the same way as before, albeit civilly.

 

Sarah sighed again and rubbed her eyes, trying to ease the headache that pounded her head.  She had to get outside, had to be free of the unbearable confines of this castle.  Sarah bundled up and left her room in search of fresh air, and, perhaps, the answers to her musings.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

He watched the girl and her horse stroll leisurely around the grounds from a balcony far above the pair. Jareth smiled when Sarah shrieked with surprise when a cloud of puffy sow fell from one of the trees and landed on her head and shoulders. 

 

He gently stroked his bandaged arm. The arm that _she_ had bandaged with such care and gentleness. Both he and Sarah had come out of the Labyrinth changed.  Jareth couldn’t explain it, but something about a life and death experience changes a person, no matter how firmly they may resist.  Politeness had been the modus operandi for both parties since the skirmish with the Minotaur, a refreshing and somewhat unexpected development.

_Perhaps…_

But no.  It could never happen, no matter how grievous the situation or how gentle the words spoken.  Sarah would never learn to love him.  _Could_ never learn to love him. Could never learn to further her affections beyond warm kindness and perhaps, dare he even wish it, friendship.  He was too cruel, too heartless…

Jareth gingerly placed a hand over his heart, feeling its sluggish beating.  The rose that had brought Sarah here, the rose that her unwitting father had picked had hardened his heart more perceptibly than the others. He was reaching the end. Perhaps one more, maybe two roses more and his heart would cease to beat, becoming a thing of cold, hard stone. It would not be much longer now.

And yet, in spite of all this, Jareth knew that his heart had been changed more radically when the young impertinent girl with the long brown hair and flashing green eyes had first set foot in his castle.

He loved her.

Jareth gazed forlornly down at Sarah and her horse, which nuzzled Sarah’s cheek, wanting to be petted. He could hear Sarah’s laugh as she indulged the creature.

He saw Sarah glance up at the castle. He could see when she spotted him. She raised an arm and gave him a shy wave.  Bemused and delighted, Jareth nodded back and raised a hand in return.  Shyness overcame Sarah, who buried her face in the soft hair of Greatheart’s neck, turning to continue her walk.

Jareth slowly let his hand fall, drifting back over his heart once more, a smile on his lips.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

It was time for dinner with the king, an occurrence that both delighted and unnerved Sarah.  She took a deep steadying breath before she rounded the corner into the brightly-lit dining hall. 

Of course Jareth was already in there, standing next to Sarah’s chair, ready to push it in once she sat down.

“You look very pretty tonight, Sarah.” Jareth said politely as Sarah sat down, “it looks like the fresh air did you good today.”

“Thank you,” replied Sarah, accepting her napkin from Jareth before he sauntered gracefully to his seat. “I couldn’t resist. I do love the snow! It makes the whole world seem like a fairy-land of sparkling white.”

“Indeed it does,” replied the king, raising a glass in a sort of toast.

They lapsed off into silence as they ate, Sarah keeping her eyes modestly down on her plate, and Jareth glancing up surreptitiously from time to time to study her.

She was dressed in a gown of shimmering green, her long hair pulled back from her face in a jeweled clip. She never looked up to meet his glances, much to Jareth’s chagrin.

Sarah was aware of Jareth’s glances, which bemused and slightly frightened her.  She wasn’t sure of what to do with this new and, in some respects, improved Goblin King.  It frightened her how their actions towards the other had changed. It was strange and new and altogether disconcerting.

Sarah shook off her reverie to find the Goblin King looking at her, as if he had just asked her a question and had been waiting for an answer.

“Sorry, what was that?” Sarah queried, cheeks flushing at her inattention.

“I asked you if you would like some coffee, Sarah dearest,” he replied smoothly, lifting a steaming pot in one hand and a porcelain cup in the other.

“Yes, please.”

Jareth poured a cup of the steaming brew and rose from his seat and walked down the table to where Sarah was sitting. He set the cup down in front of Sarah, never breaking eye contact with the flustered girl.

“Be careful, Miss Sarah. ‘tis very hot.”

Sarah fidgeted slightly, disconcerted.

“Um..thank you.  I will.”

Jareth grinned brilliantly at Sarah before he turned and stalked sinuously back to his seat.

Sarah stared at his retreating form for a moment before she gathered up the steaming cup in her hands and blew on it gently to cool it so she could take a drink.

Jareth serenely took a drink of his own coffee.

“Mmm. This is good.  I make a pretty damn good pot of coffee if I do say so myself.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in for Sarah.

“Wait, what? _You_ made the coffee?  All by yourself?”  Sarah spluttered slightly, surprised by this little nugget of information.

“Of course.  I made the whole dinner all by myself. No magic or goblins or anything! I’ve been slaving away all day in the kitchen.” His voice took on a theatrical air and he threw his hand dramatically up upon his brow, as if the deed had been unduly taxing.  “I’ll have you know that I had to make three batches of those damn rolls before they finally turned out right.  It was terrible.” He sighed comically, slumping in his chair as if he was utterly exhausted from his efforts.

Sarah laughed, so hard that tears lacked from her eyes.

“It’s not funny!” said Jareth indignantly, those rolls nearly finished me!”

“Sorry,” Sarah gasped, trying to wipe away her tears, “It’s just that I’m trying to imagine you cooking, and I keep seeing you wearing a frilly flowered apron and cooking mitts, with your hair up in a cap and smudges of flour on your face!”

Jareth shook his head in mock disapproval.

“Sarah, I’m surprised at you! What sort of self-respecting king wears a frilly apron?  You do me and injustice imagining me so!”

“What sort of self-respecting king cooks for a silly girl he keeps in his castle?” Sarah replied saucily.

“A _Goblin_ King, m’dear.  Mind you, you were right about the flour.  It was everywhere.” 

He gave an involuntary shudder at the memory.

Sarah smiled and sipped some more of her coffee before she spoke again.

“Why did you do it?” she asked quietly, not looking up from the dark liquid in her cup.

“What, get flour everywhere?” Jareth replied, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“No, cook dinner.  Why would you bother to take so much time to do such a thing?” clarified Sarah, still gazing determinedly at her cup.

Jareth paused for a moment before speaking, which caused Sarah to look up and meet his eyes.  They stared at each other as Jareth responded hesitantly, as if afraid what he said would be taken badly.

“…perhaps because I thought that the girl whom I made the dinner for was worth the time and effort.  Even the three batches of rolls.”  He gazed softly at Sarah.

“Oh,” replied Sarah, somewhat startled, her hand flying to her mouth in her astonishment. “Oh.”

Her brain moved sluggishly, going over what the Goblin King had said.

“I-I see…” Sarah finished lamely, folding her hands in her lap and gazing down at them.

“Sarah” Jareth said tenderly, rising from his chair once more and walking down the down to where Sarah sat. He knelt down and grasped Sarah’s hands in his own.

Sarah didn’t look up.

“Sarah, dearest, look up at me, please.”

He put his hand under her chin and raised her face to look at his.

Sarah kept her eyes down for a moment before hesitantly raising them to meet Jareth’s.

“Sarah, when you first came to my castle, you were so headstrong and stubborn,” he chuckled softly, “well, I guess that you still are.”

Sarah blushed and tried to look away, but Jareth’s hand under her chin kept her still.  Jareth continued.

“You were so set on leaving this castle from the moment you set foot here.  When you ran away, I was so angry, and I’m sorry to admit that I loathed you. I did not think that those feelings could ever change.  But when you got lost in the Labyrinth and were accosted by the minotaur, I was so scared…I was afraid that I would lose you just when I realized my feelings for you. I was terribly frightened.”

He paused and tucked a stray curl tenderly behind Sarah’s ear.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul. I have become more and more entranced by you, by your face, by your smile, by the way you say my name, even in anger.  I am a man obsessed, utterly and completely.  My heart is yours, to do with whatever you wish.  You are too generous to trifle with me.  I am your slave.  I will move the stars and reorder time, all for you.”

“I-I don’t--”

“I love you.”  Jareth said simply, gazing deeply at Sarah.

Sarah was stunned.  She sat numbly for a moment, trying to collect her scattered thoughts.

“I-I don’t know what to say…” Sarah finally whispered, her courage withering.

“Say that you love me,” Jareth replied, his voice soft and husky.

“I-I…”  Sarah faltered, alarm, fear, and pity overcoming her. “I can’t say that…”

Intense sadness filled the Goblin King’s eyes.

“You do not love me in return.”

It was not a question.

“No! I-I mean that I don’t know, I can’t say that if I didn’t feel that way.  Please don’t ask this of me.”

Jareth gently released Sarah’s chin and rose to his feet.  He held out his hand to Sarah to help her up.  Sarah took it tentatively, and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

“Then I must bid you good night.” Replied Jareth in a cool, sad voice.

 

 He bent and gently pressed his lips to the back of Sarah’s hand. Sarah felt her cheeks grow warm with shame and some other emotion that she daren’t identify.

“G-goodnight.” Sarah stuttered before she turned and fled the room, leaving Jareth standing alone, looking forlornly after her.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

 

Sarah hurried back to her room, trying and failing to lock away all of her thoughts.

She couldn’t _love_ him, could she? Jareth was her captor, after all, he had decreed that she stay at the castle for an eternity in exchange for the rose that her father has stolen.  I wasn’t fair…

And yet…the way he had looked at her, with such intense despair…all the sadness of the world in his eyes.

Sarah was a coward. She couldn’t bring herself to love the Goblin King, and by failing to do so, set him free, breaking the terrible enchantment that had imprisoned him all these years.

Sarah shook her head, trying to dispel her mind of all these thoughts.  She stripped off her gown and pulled a nightgown over her head and crawled into bed.  Thanks to her utter emotional exhaustion, Sarah was asleep before her head had hit the pillow.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Not far away in another part of the castle, the Goblin King sighed broken-heartedly, watching a dark haired maiden sleep in the depths of the shimmering crystal he held in his palm.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Hello all my lovelies!  A nice long chapter this week to make up for the shortness of the last few! I’ve been pretty lucky this finals week to have 3 of my 5 finals done the week before, and so I’ve had time (and the lack of writer’s block!) to write a long chapter!  I hoped that all of you enjoyed the J/S fluffy-ness! There is at least one Pride and Prejudice reference and one Phantom of the Opera reference!**

**Also, on a totally random note, I’ve decided that if I ever make a band, I will call it “The Minotaur Incident.”  It would be totally awesome.  I wrote that line and I was like “band name!”  (Towards the beginning of the chapter)**

**Anyways, please read and review! I really makes my day! Thanks so everyone who has already reviewed, and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 


	26. Something Truly Terrible

**_Chapter 22_**

_ Something Truly Terrible _

_  
_

_“Through the mist, through the woods_  
Through the darkness and the shadows  
It's a nightmare but it's one exciting ride  
Say a prayer, then we're there  
At the drawbridge of a castle  
And there's something truly terrible inside.”

_-“The Mob Song” from Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

_Karen let out a little scream and covered her face with her hands._

_On Sarah’s pillow lay a blood red rose._

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Karen sat sobbing in the kitchen, holding fiercely onto Toby who looked very morose, his eyes red and puffy.  Robert paced back and forth, anger and despair coursing through his body.

“I can’t believe it…I  just can’t.  Why would that monster let Sarah stay here for a whole week before deciding to snatch her back?”

Robert raged on and on, never ceasing his pacing.

“Because he is a beast and a beast has no honour.” Supplied Karen bitterly, stroking Toby’s sandy hair with a mother’s comfort.

“I suppose you are right…But still! I still can’t stand it! It’s just…it’s just not fair!”

Robert pounded the oak table angrily with his fists, making the silverware rattle.

Toby spoke quietly in the silence that pervaded after his father’s anger.

“No, it isn’t” Toby conceded, jumping off of his mother’s lap and scampering around the table to hug his father, burying his face in his father’s warm shirt.  He looked up after a moment, his eyes tearstained once more.

“…but that’s the way it is.”

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

The weeks passed, fall finally succumbing to the deep chill and white splendor of winter.  Life fell back into the same rhythm as it had before when Sarah had first made her way to the castle at the center of the Labyrinth.

Karen had come to grudgingly accept the fact that she may never see her stepdaughter again, and conversely, that it would do no good for her to mourn when she had a family to take care of.  Toby had come to see that being an only child once more was not all it was cracked up to be, a bittersweet revelation for the young boy.  He desperately regretted all the times in his short life when he had wished that he was the only child in the Williams family whenever Sarah had annoyed or angered him.

Robert was the only one in the Williams family who still talked incessantly of trying to get Sarah back.  Karen and Toby had given up hope of ever seeing Sarah again, and lost interest whenever Robert brought up the heart-breaking subject.

“Robert, please just put the thought out of your head,” Karen had pled on more than one occasion, weary and careworn, “How could you possibly think that you could defeat someone as powerful as the Goblin King?  He is a magician, Robert, for God’s sake.  Even if you could find your way through his damndable Labyrinth again and find Sarah, you’ll never come out again.  Do you want our family to lose you as well as Sarah?  I don’t think that the Goblin King would keep you as a pet like he does Sarah.  I think that your sojourn to the castle will be brief, ending with you in a casket.”

“Don’t be so morbid, Karen.  That wouldn’t happen.”  Robert replied curtly, stirring his coffee sullenly.

“How do you know, Robert?  How much do you know about this creature? Enough to save Sarah?  Enough to keep you alive?”

“Enough to know that if a band of men from the village stormed the castle of  the Goblin King, he  would be sufficiently disarmed” replied Robert, stoically determined.

“And what will you tell the men, hmm? That your daughter was taken by an extremely dangerous mythical creature who lives deep in the forest in a monstrous castle?  Are you mad?  How can you expect that they would believe you?”

“If you haven’t noticed Karen, things aren’t always what they seem in this world of ours. Who knew that there was so much in it that is magical and mysterious?  Who knew that Goblin Kings and Labyrinths exist?  This isn’t the same world of ours that we lived in in Wolverston, Karen.  Here…here there be monsters.”

Karen said nothing, looking out the window at the forest.

“The townsfolk here have come from generations and generations of people knowing full well that the eldritch creatures of old still exist, hidden at the edges of the map.  They will believe me Karen.  They have grown up beliving.”

Karen threw up her hands in resignation.

“Fine then.  They’ll believe you.  How will you convince them then, to leave the safety of their town and venture far from their families to get Sarah back, to risk their own necks for a daughter that isn’t theirs?”

Robert thought on that for a moment, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Because the Goblin King won’t stop at just one girl. He steals other children too, Karen, as you’ve heard, and he is the master of the devious goblins. He is a menace that has haunted these parts for far too long.  The townsfolk will be all too willing to be rid of him.”

“I suppose you are right. I fear I must concede with a heavy heart.  Go. Convince them.”

Karen kissed Robert softly and passed him his cloak, which Robert swung over his shoulders.

“Wish me luck.” 

He said this as he wrapped a woolen scarf around his neck and pulled on some worn gloves.

“You always have it” replied Karen softly.

And with that, Robert set out into the deepening twilight in the direction of the village, and hopefully,  the key to his daughter’s freedom.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert entered the dim warmth of the pub, grateful of its warmth.  He hung up his cloak and scarf up on a peg by the door and then walked over to the long bar to get a drink, scanning the dim room as he went.

The room was sparsely populated, but it was apparent that lady luck was on Robert’s side that night, as the person whom Robert had been hoping to talk to was there at the pub that night.  He collected his drink and retreated to the shadowy corner where the person sat.

Desmond looked up in surprise when Robert sat down at his table.

“Mr. Williams!  What are you doing here?”

“I came here to talk to you about something very important, Desmond.  May I join you?”

Desmond leaned forward in his chair, intrigued.

“Desmond, m’boy, tell me: where do you think Sarah is right now?”

Desmond cocked an eyebrow in puzzlement and surprise.

“Why…she is back in the city with the viscountess, just as you said she was.” Desmond replied hesitantly as if he suspected that he was about to be told that this was not the truth.

Robert nodded as Desmond spoke.  He beckoned for the boy to lean in close when Desmond had finished speaking.

“What would you say if I told you that that story was false?  That my family and I have been lying about where Sarah is?”

Desmond bristled.

“Then I’d say you had better have a damn good reason for lying to me and the rest of the village concerning Sarah’s whereabouts.”

“Aye” said Robert gravely, nodding once more, “Tis a very good reason, I fear.” He sat back in his chair, morose.

“Where is Sarah _really?_ ” Desmond asked, eyes focused on Robert.

“Do you remember when my family and I first came to Bracknell Fen all those months ago?  Sarah and I came to the pub here to meet some of the townsfolk.”

Desmond nodded.

“Everyone told us about the forest and the goblins and the other creatures that live here.  You also told us about the great evil that is said to live in the forest, though none of you could agree on what said evil was.”

Desmond interrupted, looking slightly skeptical.

“Are you saying that a basilisk or a sphinx or whatever took Sarah?”

“It’s not any of those, Desmond, it’s a king. The King of the Goblins. He took Sarah.”

Desmond looked skeptically at Robert.

“The, uh, _King of the Goblins_ , eh?  So some puffed-up goblin in a tin crown took Sarah?”

“No,” said Robert angrily, “he is a man…well, he is a fae, actually.  I saw him. I was lost in the woods when I was returning from my trip to Wolverston when the letter came about my boat. I stumbled into his Labyrinth, followed some gormless goblins to his castle and stayed the night there. In the morning, I was getting ready to leave when I saw a rose garden full of beautiful roses. I picked one for Sarah, and then lo and behold, there stood the Goblin King, angry as can be, demanding reparations for the rose.  He demanded that Sarah be sent to the castle in exchange for the rose.  If she didn’t go willingly, he would come to collect her himself.”

“Uh-hunh.” Desmond was unconvinced.

“You’ve got to believe me! Please!”

“How can I believe that some fae king has Sarah, just because you took a silly rose. I…”

“It’s true.”

A voice interrupted Desmond brusquely. Hoggle sidled up to the table and sat down. 

“The Goblin King exists, mark my words, an’ he is more great an’ terrible than all your fantastical creatures put together.”

Desmond blanched.

“He…he, uh, really does exist, then?”

He looked at Hoggle, as if half-hoping that Hoggle would suddenly laugh and tell Desmond that it was all a great big joke.

“Yep.”

Desmond sat back in his chair, stunned. He thought for a moment before sitting bolt upright in his chair.

“He took her back, didn’t he?  After the ball on All Hallows Eve?”

“Yes.”  Robert replied calmly, relieved that Desmond had finally accepted the truth.

“That bastard!  All because of a rose!” Desmond exclaimed.

“It’s part of his curse.  He angered an enchantress who in turn put an enchantment on him.  The Goblin King must learn to love an’ earn the girl’s love in return” Hoggle said, with an air of matter-of-fact.

The two men at the table turned abruptly to stare at the dwarf.

“ _What?_ ” asked Robert sharply.

“Hoggle, how can we believe anything you say?” asked Desmond plantively.

“Let me put it this way:” replied Hoggle simply, “what choice have yeh got?”

He paused to take a drink and then continued his little speech.

“It is the key teh breaking the Goblin King’s curse. I suppose he is hopin’ that Sarah is the one who will break the spell.”

“Is he out of his mind?  How could Sarah ever…how could she possibly…love….love _him_? Bah!”  Desmond stuttered, appalled.

“I suppose that’s why she’s teh be there forever” replied Hoggle testily.

“This is even worse than I thought” moaned Robert, resting his head heavily in his hands. “We must to go and rescue her before the Goblin King does anything to hurt her.”

Desmond perked up visibly at this notion while Hoggle scowled.

“An’ how do yeh think that yer gonna go an’ defeat an extremely old an’ powerful Goblin King, who is also a fae, who plans on winnin’ the affections of yer daughter  no matter how long that may take?”

“I’m going to get the men in the village together and we are going to storm the castle.”  Robert replied confidently.

“He will know yeh are comin’.  He knows everythin’ that goes on in the forest. Yeh won’t stand a chance. Yeh will all sacrifice yer lives an’ Sarah will _still_ be stuck with the Goblin King for an eternity. Great plan.  Just fantastic.”

Hoggle hopped down from his chair as Robert answered.

“Well, it’s the only one I’ve got.  What do you propose we do Hoggle?”

Hoggle turned back briefly to the men at the table.

“Hope she falls in love with him.”

Hoggle stumped away and out the door, leaving behind the two stunned men sitting at the table.

“Is he _mad_?” raged Desmond, pounding a fist on the table.

“Quite possibly” replied Robert mildly. “Sarah could never fall in love with the Goblin King.  Hoggle is nothing but a barmy old fool.  I say my plan still goes.  Desmond, will you tell all the men of the village to meet us here, a week from now?  I need some time to think of how I am going to explain this to them.”

“I will.”

“Good.  Goodbye, until then.”  Robert clapped Desmond on the shoulder and got up from the table.

Robert bundled himself up and set off for Appledore cottage, gritting his teeth when the icy wind seeped through his cloak. He thought over what had been said at his little meeting, especially Hoggle’s revelation.  Sarah, fall in love with the Goblin King? Impossible.  It was utterly absurd…and yet, Hoggle’s parting words still rung heavily in his ears.

_“Hope she falls in love with him.”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Sorry about the lack of J/S this week, but I needed to get this story line into motion!  I promise that next week will be full of J/S goodness! Happy Holidays to everyone! I hope that everyone has had a nice relaxing time!  (I know that I have!)  I’ve been doing a lot of work on this fic during the break, and I think that I’ve got the general plot worked out to the end!  Also, sorry about not getting up the one-shot in time for the holidays. I’m still working on that, as I had an accident with a can of Sprite that got dumped on my desk and on some papers that had that fic written out on them.  The ink got all runny on some of the papers (note to self, felt-tip pen runs when wet while ball-point do not) and I lost some of the fic. In spite of the that, I’m working on it again, and I can’t say when it will be up!  Usually I work on it whenever I get writer’s block for this fic!  Happy New Years to everyone!**

**Anyways, please read and review! It really makes my day! Thanks so everyone who has already reviewed, and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 


	27. Promise Me

**_Chapter 23: Part 1_**

_ Promise Me _

_  
_

_“Please don’t make me love you,_

_Please don’t make me need you,_

_Simplify my life just by setting me free._

_Promise me you’ll do this, only you can do this._

_Please don’t make me love you, unless you love me.”_

_-“Please Don’t Make Me Love You” from the musical “Dracula”_

_By Frank Wildhorn_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Christmas was approaching fast, a happening that made Jareth very nervous. He had not celebrated the holiday for many a century, but he was quite sure that Sarah did.  Not only that, but the holiday would most certainly remind the girl of her family, and that would bring about another wave of homesickness.  He could not risk Sarah running away once again, especially since they had come so far since when Sarah had first come to the castle.  He wanted to do something special for Sarah, but what? He would have to think on that. It had to be something spectacular, something that would impress her, something that would hopefully make her love him in return.

 

Jareth was strolling aimlessly through the castle as he thought of all this. He happened to glance up during his musings to see Sarah striding purposefully across the grounds in the direction of the stables.  Panic flooded Jareth’s heart as his mind flew to a startling conclusion: Sarah must be running off again, frightened or more likely repulsed by his declaration of love.  He must go stop her. He could not risk losing her again.

 

Without further ado, Jareth turned tail and ran down the marble corridor, skidding a bit as he turned a corner, flinging open a door so forcefully that it hit the wall with a resounding bang.  In no time at all, Jareth was running across the great lawn in the direction of the stables.  With his heart pounding in his ears, he skidded into a stop and threw open the stable doors with a crash, expecting to either see Sarah gone or in the process of hastily saddling her horse.

 

Sarah was, in fact, in the stables, just as Jareth had thought.

 

Jareth found it most odd that Sarah was on the ground in an ungainly heap, straw and grain strewn all over her dress and in her hair, her eyes wide with surprise, and one hand clutching her heart.  She was near her horse, a horse-brush on the ground by her feet and a stool tipped over beside her.  Once she recognized the now sheepish figure who had bounded into the stables, her face darkened in righteous anger.

 

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re playing at?” she demanded, trying to get up and brush herself off.

 

Jareth offered her a hand and she waved him off angrily.  Sarah untangled herself from her skirts and got up, brusquely brushing herself off, righting the stool and picking up the brush as she did so.

 

Jareth watched her, abashed.  Sarah was not running away, she was coming out to the stables to brush her horse. Stupid, stupid, stupid…why must he always jump to such outlandish and dramatic conclusions whenever Sarah was involved?

 

Jareth suddenly became aware that Sarah was still waiting for an answer, for she stood before him, her hands resting angrily on her hips and her eyebrows raised. Jareth dropped his eyes guiltily and scuffed the toe of his boot around in the dust, scrounging his mind for an acceptable reply.

 

“I, uh, I thought that you were in trouble” supplied Jareth lamely.

 

“Uh hunh.”

 

Sarah was utterly unconvinced.

 

“I see, because brushing a horse is an activity that is sure to be fraught with mortal peril.  Hmm…I’m afraid that I’d have to disagree with you on that one, Goblin King.  I think that it isn’t the horse-brushing that leads one to the hellmouth, but the stupid Goblin King who bursts in dramatically while you are brushing your horse, causing you to fall off of your stool in your fright. Ugh.  You are absolutely ridiculous.  You know that, right? In trouble…ugh.”

 

Sarah muttered off into incoherence, staring daggers at Jareth all the while.

 

Jareth sighed, cursing himself for his own stupidity and hasty actions.

 

“I am sorry Sarah, really, truly I am.  I really did think that something was wrong.  I did not come here with the malicious intent of making you fall off of your stool.  Forgive me?”

 

Jareth looked quite contrite, his eyes wide with innocence.

 

A smile tugged at Sarah’s lips, threatening to ruin her composure. All Jareth needed to do now was to stick out his lower lip and he would look like an overgrown version of Toby, asking for forgiveness after he had let a frog loose in the house or when he had accidentally tracked dirt all over Karen’s recently-swept floor. Sarah managed to maintain her composure, taking a leaf out of the Goblin King’s book by assuming a lofty air and raising a sardonic eyebrow.

 

“It’s not _my_ forgiveness that is desired, O’ Goblin King, but Greatheart’s”  she turned to pat the horse conspiratorially before continuing, “You see, you interrupted me when I was brushing him, which is one of his favorite things, apart from apples.  It is not my mercy that matters now, Goblin King, but his.”

 

Jareth looked surprised for a moment before he caught on, deciding to play Sarah’s game.  He sidled up to the horse and bowed deeply, conjuring a crystal and spinning it into a juicy red apple.

 

“O’ Greatheart, king among horses, I beseech thee, grant me your pardon for interrupting your grooming.  I bring thee an apple as a symbol of my most humble and contrite apologies. Wilt thou forgive me, O’ horse lord?”

 

He offered up the apple to the horse, who considered it gravely for a moment before he ate it greedily.  Jareth smiled and straightened, petting the horse’s neck.

 

Sarah, standing on Greatheart’s other side, smiled as well and kissed the horse’s nose fondly.  She looked up to see the Goblin King watching her.  Sarah blushed slightly and spoke.

 

“He forgives you, even if you _are_ a silly Goblin King with crazy notions about what constitutes peril.”

 

“I am most glad,” replied Jareth, patting the horse’s neck, “This horse would have made a most formidable enemy, especially since he lives at my castle. I shudder to think of what might have happened.”

 

Sarah smiled and made a non-committal noise as she continued to pet Greatheart’s neck.

 

“He is a beautiful horse,” said Jareth casually, also petting the horse, “Did I hear you correctly when you called him ‘Greatheart’?  A fitting name for so noble a creature. He must be very fond of you to stay here at the castle.”

 

“Yes, I expect so” replied Sarah, absent-mindedly braiding a lock of Greatheart’s hair.  She smiled warmly at her horse.

 

They were silent for a moment, never ceasing to lavish their attentions on the extremely happy horse.

 

A thought suddenly struck Sarah, and she spoke it aloud, breaking the easy silence.

 

“Jareth, why don’t you have any horses?  You have stables and food and tack, but no horses.  Why is that?”

 

“Well, I suppose because I have no need for a horse.  It is quite convenient, you see, to be able to turn into an owl on a whim.  I have not ridden a horse for many a century.”  He grinned guiltily at Sarah from over Greatheart’s back. “I am afraid that I have forgotten how.”

 

“Forgotten?” echoed Sarah, astonished, “Forgotten how to ride a horse? How is that even possible?”

 

“Well, if you have not so much as touched a horse, never mind ridden one for several centuries, one looses the knack, so to speak.”

 

“Would you like to ride Greatheart?” Sarah asked, patting her horse. “He is really quite gentle, even though he looks quite imposing.”

 

Jareth eyed Greatheart warily, taking in the horse’s extraordinary size and height. He spoke with a hint of nerves in his voice.

 

“Well…you see…uh, Greatheart is a very _large_ horse, you know, um…”

 

Sarah interrupted him, a grin spreading across his features.

 

“Dear me…” said Sarah wonderingly, cupping one of her cheeks in a hand, “Is the mighty Goblin King _afraid_? Tsk, tsk. Oh, how the tables have turned. Destiny is a cruel mistress, is she not?”

 

“Well, it is a very long way to fall” replied Jareth hotly, his ears turning crimson in his embarrassment.

 

“Oh, come on, I’ll teach you!  I promise that you won’t fall.  Greatheart is a very good horse.  I’ll show you. Come outside please.” Sarah beckoned, grabbing Greatheart’s bridle and saddle blanket while Jareth carried the saddle.

 

Once they had gone outside and Greatheart was saddled, Sarah spoke again.

 

“All right.  I’ll go first, so you can see how truly _terrifying_ my horse can be, and then it will be your turn.  Give me a boost, will you?”

 

Sarah stood by Greatheart and looked back at the Goblin King, who sighed in resignation, walked over to Sarah and knelt, lacing his fingers so that she could mount the horse.  Once Sarah was settled, Jareth stepped back to observe.

 

“Ok, it is very simple.  You steer Greatheart with these,” she lifted the reins in her hands, “and you kick him gently to go, and you pull back on the reins to stop.  Watch.”

 

She kicked Greatheart into motion and trotted a neat circle around the Goblin King, stopping in the spot where she had begun.

 

“See? Nothing to fear! Your turn now.”

 

Sarah dismounted Greatheart gracefully and walked the horse over to the Goblin King.

 

Jareth sighed, resigned to his fate.  He took the reins from Sarah and scrambled up into the saddle with some difficulty.  Sarah clapped her hands delightedly.

 

“Excellent! Now, gently kick him and he will start moving.”

 

Jareth did so and Greatheart began to walk, Jareth steering him in a circle as Sarah had done.

 

“Oh! You are doing wonderful! I knew you could do it!  See, you haven’t forgotten!”

 

Sarah was ecstatic, clapping her hands delightedly once more.

 

“No,” replied Jareth, urging Greatheart into a stately trot, “I suppose that I have not.  It was silly of me, I—“

 

But at that moment, a goblin came scampering across the grass from the direction of the castle, a large wheel of cheese perched precariously atop his head, and a long loaf of bread clenched in his teeth.  The little creature ran right under Greatheart, disappearing into the trees as he went.  Sarah opened her mouth to shout, but the damage had already been done.

 

Greatheart reared up, hooves flying madly in the air, throwing Jareth off his back as he did so.  Greatheart landed with an earth-shattering crash, sprinting off madly into the shelter of the trees.

 

Sarah let out a little scream as Jareth fell, hurrying over to where he lay unmoving on the ground.  Sarah knelt in the dirt by his head, cupping it in her hands and brushing aside a stray strand of hair.  She moved him so that his head rested gently in her lap and she began to call his name feverishly.

 

“Jareth? Jareth!  Oh, Jareth, please talk to me…are you hurt? Oooh…”

 

Jareth groaned and raised a hand to his head.  He muttered something, too low for Sarah to hear.

 

“What was that?”  Sarah’s voice was shaky.

 

“Mmm…you promised me that I would not fall, and now look at me.” He smiled weakly. “So much for all your assurances about your mild-mannered horse.”

 

Sarah let out a strangled laugh and continued to pet his hair.  Jareth opened his eyes, blinking in the sunlight. He gazed up at her face for a moment before a look of puzzlement crossed his face.

 

“What’s this?”  He raised a hand and gently wiped Sarah’s cheek.  “Tears? For me?”

 

Sarah laughed again, suppressing a sob as she dried her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was calmer.

 

“Are you hurt?  Oh, I am so sorry, I didn’t know…”

 

Jareth answered this by sitting up with some effort, waving off Sarah’s protest. He pressed a hand his ribs and sucked in a sharp breath.

 

Sarah fluttered, still kneeling next to him.

 

“Oh no!  Oh no, oh no…are they broken?”

 

Jareth grimaced.  “I’m not sure”

 

“Oh, let me see.”  Sarah put a hand on Jareth’s side and pressed lightly, Jareth wincing delicately as she did so.

 

“I think that they are just bruised.  Let me help you up.”

 

With great difficulty, Sarah managed to get Jareth standing, his arm over her shoulders as they walked slowly back to the stables.  Sarah set Jareth down gently on a stool and left him for moment so that she could go and fetch Greatheart.

 

As Sarah left the stables to retrieve the horse, Jareth smiled. It was true that he was hurt when the horse bucked him off, but he wasn’t _quite_ as hurt as Sarah believed.  She’d let her imagination run away, and Jareth didn’t feel that it was necessary to correct her error.  Besides, the only thing that would come from this would be that Jareth would be petted and fussed over by his lady love, something that Jareth found very appealing.

 

At that moment, Sarah reappeared, leading an abashed Greatheart. She quickly unsaddled the horse and brushed him down; making sure that he had clean water and fresh oats. She then gathered up the injured Goblin King, his arm draped over her shoulders as she helped him back up to the castle to be nursed and fussed over.

 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 **2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Woo!  More J/S!  Everybody loves J/S! (From the reviews I got last chapter, everyone was so disappointed about the lack of J/S!   Sometimes we have to leave Frodo and Sam on the slopes of Mount Doom and go see what Aragon and co are doing!)  I hope that this chapter will make up for last chapter’s lack of J/S. If not, I can promise that the second half of this chapter (which will come out NEXT Friday, Jan 22—suprise!) will!  I could have easily split part 2 of this chapter into two parts as well, but I decided that I dare not do that and deprive my readers of a good excuse to squee! Anyways, I’m back at school, which is depressing, to be sure, but nice at the same time because spring semester always goes by so fast!  Happy reading!**

 

**Anyways, please read and review! I really makes my day! Thanks so everyone who has already reviewed, and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 


	28. Without Knowing

**2009 AN: Yeah, that darn little fluffy plot bunny ran away with my soul this chapter.  Enjoy the LONG chapter!  Where is the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch when you need it?**

**_Chapter 23: Part 2_**

_ Without Knowing _

_  
_

_“Such a little thing, really, a kiss..._

_most people don’t give it a moment’s consideration._

_They kiss on meeting, they kiss on parting,_

_that simple touch of flesh that is taken entirely_

_for granted as a basic human right._

_I’ve lived on this earth half a century_

_without knowing what it is to be kissed…_

_and I’ll never know now.”_

_-“Phantom” by Susan Kay_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Jareth found that he rather enjoyed being fussed over by his little nurse. She bustled about, bringing him cold compresses for his bruises, and cool water to drink.  She fed him soup and plumped up his pillows whenever she deemed that they had gotten too hard.  She constantly kept him company, talking to him, reading to him, watching over him as he slept, and sometimes they just sat together in silence, each enjoying the other’s presence.

 

However, Jareth couldn’t be indisposed forever, and so after a few days of this routine, Jareth declared that he was much better and that he could probably manage on his own.  Sarah was disappointed when Jareth had said that he was better.  It took away her excuse to be with him, no matter how fervently Sarah told herself that it wasn’t true.

 

Conversely, Jareth was a little glad that he and Sarah weren’t spending so much time together anymore because of his injury, because during his tenure under Nurse Sarah, he had thought of what he wanted to do for Sarah for Christmas, and it would be exceedingly difficult for Jareth to pull off his plans if he was constantly under the watch of his little nursemaid. 

 

And so it came that Christmas Eve morning, Sarah was sitting in her room, reading a particularly delightful story about a little girl no larger than a person’s thumb, when a sharp rap sounded on the door, followed by a hiss as a thick parchment envelope was pushed under the door, sliding a little ways across the stone floor.

 

Puzzled, Sarah got up from her seat, carefully setting her book down so that her spot wouldn’t be lost, and crossed the room to pick up the envelope. The parchment was thick and of the highest quality, with a wax seal on the back, which bore the form of an owl with wings outstretched.  On the front in elegant flowing script were the words “Sarah Williams.” Curious, Sarah broke the seal and opened the envelope, sliding out a sheet of gilded paper, which bore a crest that matched that of the one on the wax seal.

 

 _To the Lady Sarah Williams_ the card bore, in the same flowing script as the envelope, _The honour of your presence is requested by His Royal Highness, Jareth, King of the Goblins this evening, the 24 th night of December at the castle at the center of the Labyrinth for a holiday dinner party._

_Kindly respond immediately. A note passed back under the door shall suffice._

Sarah stared for a moment at the note before a smile spread widely over her face and she rushed over to her desk to write a reply, knocking over a silver vase in her haste.  She hurriedly scribbled a response and briskly walked back over to the door.   Sarah was gravely tempted to open the door, sure that she would find the Goblin King there, probably kneeling on the ground at the base of the door, waiting for Sarah’s reply.  However, Sarah resisted this urge, intent on continuing the little game that Jareth had started.

 

And so Sarah knelt, sliding her note under the door with a little push.

 

Still crouched, Sarah put her eye up to the keyhole in the door, trying vainly to see if it was actually Jareth there, or if he had relegated the duty of messenger to one of his goblins.

 

The answer was revealed to Sarah in the form of a flash of blond hair and the scent of leather as Jareth knelt to get the letter, straightening once he retrieved it.  All Sarah could see at the moment was the top of a leather boot, meeting the grey wool of Jareth’s trousers as he stood by the door, presumably reading her reply.

 

Suddenly, Jareth was kneeling too, peering back at Sarah through the keyhole.

 

“What on _earth_ are you doing, if I may be so bold as to ask?”  Jareth queried, an amused grin spreading across his face.

 

“Me? Oh, nothing, just…you know…” Sarah replied, trailing off into incoherence in her flustered state.

 

Jareth laughed heartily.

 

“No, actually, I do not know, that is why I asked.  Spying, are we? Tut, tut, tut.  And I would have thought that making your horse buck me off would have sated your lust for revenge, but it appears that I am sorely mistaken.”

 

His voice dripped with mock sorrow, and Sarah couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“So I take it that you got my reply?”

 

“Yes indeed.  I am honoured that you have accepted my invitation, not that it would have stopped me from coming to collect you anyways.  Now, as much as I would love to stay and chat with you through this keyhole here, I fear that I must retire, as I still have much to do in way of preparations” he gave a little nod of his head, “Until tonight.”  He then rose to his feet and left, leaving Sarah looking out at the empty hallway.

 

Sarah got to her feet and walked slowly back to her seat by the window and the book that she had put down when the envelope had been slid under the door. She was pleased by Jareth’s plans for a Christmas dinner.  It was such a kind thing to do; especially since this would be the first Christmas Sarah had had away from her family.  Jareth had been so kind to her as of late, and she wanted to give him something in return to show her gratitude.

 

 _Well, not just gratitude_ , she thought, _gratitude wasn’t a strong enough word to describe it._ Affection would be a more fitting noun, but Sarah couldn’t bring herself to think of “the Goblin King” and “affection” in the same sentence, no matter how it pained her.  Oh!  She was so confused!  On one hand, Jareth had taken her away from her family, angered her, frightened her, bullied her and demanded that she love him.  He was arrogant and cruel and full of ill intentions.  On the other hand, however, he had come to her rescue when she had strayed into the Labyrinth and been accosted by the Minotaur, he had cooked her dinner, he had humored her when she insisted that one could never forget how to ride a horse, and even though he had been hurt because of it, he did not hold her responsible, nor did he seek revenge. He had also declared his love for her, with such heartbreaking sincerity and devotion.

 

Sarah groaned and shut her book, deciding that reading was futile now that she’d started thinking about the relationship between her and the Goblin King.

 

She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind, but to no avail. Whether Sarah liked it or not, the Goblin King was bound to her and she to him by some inexorable and powerful force, bonds that could never be broken, nor weakened by the passage of time.

 

Sarah sighed and cupped her cheek in her hand, a melancholy mood dampening her previous feelings of excitement and anticipation.  Sarah shook off the mood however, deciding that Christmastime was no time to sulk, especially since it was-- Sarah glanced up at the clock-- 2 p.m.  She needed to make sure that she was dressed and ready to go by 5:45 at the latest. She also needed to have a gift for Jareth, as it was Christmas, after all.

 

Sarah paused, thinking hard.

 

What does one get a king as a Christmas present?  A fae Goblin King, none the less, who probably had everything that he could ever want.  Sarah sat for a while, thinking hard before a brilliant idea popped into her head.  Perfect!

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Three hours and thirty-two minutes later, Sarah was sitting in front of her vanity mirror, putting the finishing touches on her appearance. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, admiring the effect the carnelian velvet of her dress had against her skin.  Sarah glanced over at the clock for a moment before she stood and walked over to her desk, where a neat little bundle lay, prettily wrapped and garnished with a silk ribbon.  Sarah bent down and fished through her desk drawers for a moment before she found what she was looking for.  She pulled out a little gilt card and wrote on it in neat writing: _To Jareth, From Sarah._   She blew on the ink for a moment to dry it before she slipped the card under the ribbon on the package.

 

A smart knock on the door made Sarah jump.  She grabbed her bundle and hastened over to open the door.

 

Jareth stood there, looking quite dashing in a velvet burgundy shirt and dark pants, complete with a decorative breastplate and glittering cape. He stood staring at Sarah for a moment when she opened the door before remembering himself and bowing.

 

“You look lovely” he said reverently, smiling at her.

 

“Thank you” Sarah replied, stepping out into the corridor and shutting the door behind her.  Wordlessly Jareth offered his arm to Sarah, a gesture that reminded her powerfully of their first encounter in the throne room, when Jareth had offered his arm to Sarah and she had refused.  Sarah smiled faintly at the memory and laid her hand gently on his.

 

They made off down the silent corridors, each glancing surreptitiously at the other from time to time.

 

As they rounded the corner that led to the long hallway in front of the throne room, Jareth spoke.

 

“What have you got there that is so prettily wrapped up, Sarah?”

 

“It’s a surprise” replied Sarah succinctly, shielding the package coyly from his view.

 

Jareth grinned and spun in a circle, dragging Sarah along helplessly with him, trying to get a look at the package in a manner that was reminiscent of a dog chasing its own tail.

 

After a few spins, Jareth stopped, he and Sarah both laughing heartily and gasping for breath.  Jareth tried vainly to peer around Sarah to see the gift, but was foiled as Sarah playfully slapped his arm.  He had the good grace to concede defeat and look humbled, albeit with a dazzling grin on his face.

 

“Now, wouldn’t it be a pity if after all that, this wasn’t for you?” Sarah teased, grinning back up at Jareth.

 

“I wonder who else it could be for,” Jareth mused, looking as though the thought cost him a great effort.  “Greatheart, perhaps?  Dear me, this is difficult…there are so many people who live here at the castle…”

 

“Nope, it’s for the goblin who frightened Greatheart.  He helped me in my assassination attempt. Unfortunately, you got better. I’m afraid that I am a lousy assassin.”  Sarah sighed dramatically and pretended to look crestfallen.

 

“No it is not, you little liar,” Jareth said, shaking his head at her story. “If you were going to go give it to the goblins, then you are going entirely in the wrong direction!”

 

“Drat,” replied Sarah, preparing to turn into the dining room as she usually did every night.  As she turned, Jareth kept on going straight, and in their confusion, Jareth managed to surreptitiously pluck the gilt card off of the package and read it.

 

“I _knew_ it was for me!” Jareth crowed exultantly, handing the card back to Sarah with a flourish.

 

Sarah took the card from Jareth with a sour glance and tucked it carefully back under the ribbon of the package speaking as she did so.

 

“Where are we going?  We just passed the dining room, I hope you know.”

 

Jareth grinned down at her and replied, in very much the same manner as Sarah had when Jareth asked about the package. 

 

“It’s a surprise.”

 

Sarah glanced up at Jareth and rolled her eyes.

 

“You’re annoying.  You know that, right?”

 

“I try.”

 

Sarah shook her head in perplexed disbelief as they continued on down the silent hallway.

 

They turned down a corridor that ended in a large oak door.  Jareth opened the door and gestured for Sarah to go first.

 

Sarah looked furtively into the dark beyond the door.  The dim candlelight flickering in a bracket by the door revealed a flight of stairs that descended into the darkness. She raised an eyebrow.

 

“Sooo…you want _me_ to go into the darkness first, down a flight of steps which most likely end in the dungeon or some oubliette…uh hunh…that makes a whole lot of sense.”

 

“Well, you did try to assassinate me.  Don’t you trust me?”

 

“No, not particularly.”

 

Jareth smiled wanly and silently conjured a crystal.  Sarah took an involuntary step back. It was Jareth’s turn to roll his eyes, and he did so as he lightly shook the orb, which caused it to glow with a softly pulsing light.  He blew gently on it and it floated from his fingertips and drifted into the darkness through the door.  It rose until something shone in its light: another crystal, this one unlit. The first crystal, still shining with an unearthly light, bumped gently into the crystal with a soft clink. The dark crystal lit up as the other hit it, continuing on as the first had, clinking into yet another orb, creating a chain of lights that continued on down the spiral staircase. Intrigued, Sarah picked up her skirts and followed the glowing crystals, Jareth trailing behind her.

 

They followed the lighted orbs down to an arched doorway, through which a lit crystal floated to clink on another crystal, and that crystal hit another and so on, a chain reaction of crystals illuminating the circular room with a pulsing bluish glow like a ceiling of stars.  One half of the room comprised of windows, looking out far over the moonlight-drenched Labyrinth, and the other with mirrors, giving the room an eerie effect.

 

In the center of the room was a little table set for two.

 

Jareth appeared over Sarah’s shoulder. 

 

“I thought that you might like to eat somewhere else for a change, where we did not have to shout at each other from opposite ends of the room to be heard.”  He pulled out a chair for Sarah, who sat down.  She set her present for Jareth carefully on the edge of the table.

 

“Do I get to open it now?” asked Jareth hopefully, almost bouncing up and down in his anticipation.

 

“No!” replied Sarah, moving the package so that it was out of Jareth’s reach. “You act as if you have never celebrated Christmas before.”

 

Jareth just smiled at Sarah guiltily.

 

“You’re joking, right?”

 

“I have been alone for a _long_ time, Sarah. I took no notice of the passing years, much less the holidays they held.”

 

Sarah just sat quietly, pity filling her heart for the Goblin King.

 

Jareth looked up from his hands and saw Sarah’s morose expression, and thought quickly, eager to lift the dark mood that had fallen over the table.  He waved a hand and dinner appeared on the table.

 

“…but, I think that if you tell me about what you and your family usually do at Christmastime, perhaps I’ll remember.’

 

Sarah brightened at this and told him stories of the grand Christmas celebrations her family had had back in the big city of Wolverston when they’d had money before her father’s shipping business had failed.  She spoke ecstatically between bites of food about caroling and sleigh races and the epic snowball fights she and Toby would have.  She described how their home would be decorated and how they would look for the perfect Christmas tree and how beautiful it would look when it was bedecked with ornaments.

 

Jareth listened eagerly, reveling in Sarah’s happiness.

 

This continued for some time, Sarah recollecting about Christmases past, and Jareth happily listening until both finished dinner and Jareth stood suddenly, extending his hand.

 

“Dance with me?”

 

Sarah rose silently and accepting his hand, allowing herself to be waltzed around the room.

 

“You really planned this all out to a ‘T’, didn’t you, Goblin King?”  Sarah teased, smiling as they sailed around the table.

 

“Shh…” Jareth shushed her, a look of intense concentration on his face, “I am counting.  You are going to make me mess up if you keep going on like that.”

 

Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “Counting the waltz? You mean you learned how to waltz for this?”

 

“ _Re-_ learned, actually.  I’ve was practicing in my room most of yesterday.”

 

“You’ve been… _practicing?_ ”

 

Sarah had a brief vivid mental image of Jareth dancing around in his room, waltzing with a coat stand or a broom or some other such nonsense.  Sarah laughed uncontrollably at the thought.

 

“You know, when I planned this whole thing out, I had not imagined you giggling like a little school girl right now” said Jareth, a little put-out.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Sarah between gasps, “would you like me to swoon instead?” She mimicked lifting a hand to her brow, rolling back her eyes.

 

“Swooning would be nice, yes” replied Jareth, a little testily.

 

“Well, I’m afraid that I’ll have to disappoint you there, Goblin King” said Sarah, still chortling, spinning easily out of his grip.

 

“Besides, you’ve been a good little boy, thus far this evening, so I believe that it is time for you to get your present.”  Sarah smiled as a look of absolute childish wonderment and joy stole over Jareth’s face. He all but jumped up and down with excitement as Toby would have done.

 

“A little excited, are we?” Sarah said, smiling even wider as she gave Jareth the little wrapped package.  “Merry Christmas, Jareth.”

 

“Thank you, love.” He shook the package close to his ear.  “Hmm…what could this be…” An eyebrow rose as he asked saucily, “Perhaps new ribs for the ones that you broke when I fell off of your horse in your assassination attempt.”

 

“Bruised, Goblin King, bruised.  Don’t be so dramatic.”

 

Jareth winked roguishly at Sarah before he undid the silk ribbon and carefully took off the pretty paper.

 

“A book?” asked Jareth, lifting the small thing in his hands.

 

“A _cook_ book,” clarified Sarah, reaching a hand for the gift. Jareth passed it to her. Sarah flipped the book open to a certain page.  She passed it back to Jareth, who smiled when he read the title of the recipe. “You liked the soup I made so much that I decided to write it down for you, along with other recipes I like so that you could make it yourself.”

 

Jareth flipped through the book, delicately tracing the careful calligraphy on the title page. _A Goblin King’s cookbook.  To Jareth, From Sarah._   Jareth looked up at Sarah, hope radiating from his whole being.

 

“Sarah, are you…are you _happy_ here?”

 

He set the book down on the table and grasped Sarah’s hands in his own.  Sarah looked startled, but managed a reply.

 

“Why…why yes. Yes, I suppose I am.” She met Jareth’s gaze, not looking away or flinching as he drew closer, gently putting a hand under her chin. He was very close to her. Close enough to kiss her.

 

“What makes you think that you would not be around to make the soup for me?  Forever is forever, precious.”  He smiled adoringly at her, a man utterly and completely lost in love.

 

“I don’t know,” replied Sarah, looking cheekily back up at him, “perhaps I was hoping that I would succeed in my assassination attempts one of these days.”

 

When Jareth dropped his hand from her chin, Sarah couldn’t help but fell a little disappointed. She was almost sure that he was about to…hmm…but why would want him to do that?  Surely she couldn’t be in love with…

 

Her thoughts were interrupted when Jareth pulled a little box from his pocket, rolling it through his fingers absent-mindedly for a moment as if he was nervous before he proffered it ceremoniously to Sarah.

 

She looked questioningly at him for a moment as if waiting for him to explain the gift. When no explanation was offered, Sarah turned her attention back to the little box, which fit easily in the palm of her hand.  She undid the silver wrappings, revealing a little black enameled box with delicate silver filigree.  She glanced up at Jareth, wary caution moderating her glance.  Sarah sucked in a deep steadying breath and flickered open the silver clasp.  She lifted the lid of the box, revealing a ring, nestled on a pillow of shimmering satin. She closed the box quickly with a click, her mind wiped blank of all thought.

 

Jareth took her hands in his once more, box and all, and looked tenderly in her face. He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them softly.

 

“Merry Christmas, Sarah dearest.”

 

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say” she said quietly, not meeting his gaze.

 

“Sarah, look at me, please.”

 

He put his hand under her chin once more, lifting her face so that her eyes could meet his.

 

“Sarah, I love you, more dearly than anyone has ever loved before.  Perhaps you could find it in yourself to love me in return. We have forever together, dearest, and an eternity spent in love would be an eternity well spent, in this humble Goblin King’s opinion.”  He looked down at their clasped hands, the little box peeking through Sarah’s fingers.  “Do you think that you could love me?”

 

Sarah was forcibly reminded of a few months ago when Jareth had come to her home to collect her when she had ran away, and when he brought her back to the castle. Oh, what a fight they had had, culminating in Jareth demanding that she love him, that he would make her love him.  How wretched it was that things had changed so much since then!  It was not fear and loathing that stirred her heart now, but pity and shame.  This was not the same Goblin King that has surprised her in the throne room, taunting her and sneering at her words.  Then he had only seen her as a pawn, as the key to the release from his curse, she had been nothing to him.  The man that stood before her now spoke with such adoration and love in his voice, his eyes full of a hope not that would break his curse, but a hope that she would simply love him forever,  all thoughts of a curse nonexistent.

 

Sarah felt dizzy, as the full weight of these implications came crashing down on her. She staggered a few paces back from Jareth, the box still clutched in her hand.

 

“I-I fear that I cannot give you my heart, for I hardly know it myself…please don’t ask this of me…it breaks my heart to do this to you…I just can’t. Don’t you see that I can’t?”

 

Jareth took two large strides and stood looming before Sarah, gathering her close.

 

“Sarah…”

 

Sarah was quite sure that he meant to kiss her this time, and it frightened her terribly. She did not want to know what would be revealed about her if Jareth did.  She pushed his chest, trying to put some distance between them.

 

“Jareth, please don’t do this.”

 

“I’m afraid that it has already begun, dearest.  We’re past the point of no return.”  He looked at her sadly, releasing her gently.  “You just do not know it yet.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered, her eyes stained with tears, turning and fleeing the room full of fairy lights and one incredibly heartbroken Goblin King.

 

She didn’t stop running until she reached her room, throwing the doors shit behind her, flopping on her bed, sobbing.  Something hard poked her cheek as she buried her face in her hands.

 

The box. The box Jareth had given her. She set it down roughly on the bed beside her, causing it to fall open, the ring inside glittering in the moonlight.  Sarah laid her head down on her pillows, spending the rest of her waking hours staring at the glittering bauble.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Jareth stood quite still as Sarah left the room, his mind numb.

 

She did not love him. Perhaps this was his curse, not being unable to return to his home or being forced to take unwanted children, but being unable to be loved in return.  This was more agonizing than a stone heart.  A stone heart Jareth could handle, because a stone heart could not feel, and it would not matter that Sarah did not love him if he had a stone heart. This, this was agony.  He could see that she was learning to love him; she just did not want to admit it to herself.

 

_I’ve lived on this earth many a century without knowing what it is to be loved…and I’ll never know now…_

 

Jareth stood stock still, sadness and anger coursing through him.  The light in the crystals which hunch suspended in the air began to flicker out of existence one by one, the spheres falling to the ground and smashing into a million pieces, Jareth in the middle of it all, unmoving as a statue.

 

Jareth suddenly became aware of himself and his surroundings, and he angrily overturned the, table, the china smashing to pieces with the debris of the crystals. He let out a roar of frustration and tore at the curtains, striding around in his fury demolishing the room as he went.  He picked up one of the gilt chairs he had knocked over, and strode purposefully over to the mirrored wall, grinning dementedly at his reflection before he smashed the chair into the mirrors one by one.

 

Chest heaving, Jareth dropped the chair and stared at his broken and fragmented refection. The moonlight fell upon something lost in the debris behind Jareth, and he turned at once, anxious. He made his way carefully to the middle of the room, shifting aside broken bits of wood and crystal. He lifted the book from the wreckage, the book that Sarah had given him.  He gently dusted off the cover.  He stared down at it for a moment before coming to his senses, surveying his demolished surroundings with shame.  Cradling the book in his arms, he sunk to his knees in the middle of the demolished room, the moonlight glinting off of the top of his silver hair.

 

Wet spots appeared on the book cover as the Goblin King knelt, feeling quite as if the world had been turned upside down.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: …aww!  Well, I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter.  I sure did have quite a bit of fun writing it!  Poor Jareth and poor Sarah!  It’s a pity that things have to take a turn for the worse before they can get better!**

 

**Anyways, please read and review!  I really makes my day!  Thanks so everyone who has already reviewed, and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

**The name “Greatheart”  belongs to Robin McKinley, who features a horse with the same name in her book “Beauty.”**

 


	29. Man's Hatred

**_  
Chapter 24_**

_ Man’s Hatred _

_  
_

_“If I am the phantom,_

_it is because man’s hatred_

_has made me so…_

_if I shall be saved,_

_it will be because your love_

_redeems me.”_

_-Lon Cheney’s “Phantom of the Opera” 1925_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

If it is possible for a week to speed by very fast and yet seem extraordinarily slow at the same time, then that is how the week leading up to Robert’s meeting with the men of the town felt.  Robert spent most of the week nervously pacing the floor, wondering how he was going to get back into the Labyrinth.  When Robert had tried previously to re-enter the Labyrinth, the Goblin King had stopped him and said:

 

_Do not be so foolish as to presume that you can defeat me or that you can find my Labyrinth again.  It is a lost cause.  Go back to your home and your family; live on with your wife and your son.  Forget about Sarah._

He _would_ find the Labyrinth again. It was imperative that he and the townsmen make it through so that they could rescue Sarah and destroy the Goblin King and end his reign of terror.

 

Early morning on the seventh day Robert found himself once more in the town pub, Desmond at his side, both watching as the men of the town came in through the door. By a quarter-past, the pub was very full, which pleased Robert immensely.  Rosie the barmaid was busy bustling about with drinks, making sure that no one was left thirsty.

 

Robert stood and coughed, causing the clamor of voices to die down, every eye and every ear trained on Robert, eager and curious to see why they had been called to the pub with such urgency.

 

“I suppose that many of you may be wondering why I called you all here.  Gentlemen of Bracknell Fen, when I first arrived here these many months ago, several of you told me and my daughter of a great evil that is said to live in the forests that surround us.  When I was first told of this, I brushed it off and thought that it was nothing but old wives tales told to frighten newcomers to the village.  However, a few weeks after your warnings, I was unfortunate enough to come face-to-face with your dreaded beast.”

 

At this, a clamor rose up from the men, but Robert threw his hands up in the air and shouted so that he could be heard over the din.

 

“Please! Let me finish! I had travelled back to Wolverston after a letter had been sent to me concerning one of my old ships. On the return journey, I became lost in the woods and found myself before a wall of yellow stone. I passed through the great doors of the wall and found myself in a maze.  I wandered through it for hours until I stumbled across some goblins. They did not see me as I followed them to a great castle at the center of the maze, the Labyrinth. I entered the castle and stayed the night, and I saw no one there.  When I was preparing to leave in the morning, my eyes fell upon a rose garden, and something in me compelled me to pick one to bring home to my daughter.  When I did so, there arose such a great fury that I fell back, frightened.  There before me stood a man garbed all in black, anger coursing off of him in great palatable waves.  He demanded why I thought I could steal from him, and I told him that I only wanted to bring a rose home to my daughter. He then demanded that she come to the castle in recompense for the rose.”

 

The bar was deathly quiet.

 

“Sarah went to the castle in my stead.  I told everyone that she was with a viscountess, but it was only _him_. She managed to escape from him once.  I’m sure that you all remember our All Hallows Eve celebration?  I am almost certain that he was there as well, for Sarah disappeared again that night.”

 

“Robert, pray tell, of what nature is this foul beast?” asked Alberdore gravely, not noticing that the pipe he had clenched in his teeth had gone out.

 

“He is the master of the goblins, the Goblin King.  He is fae-kind and he retains great magical powers.  Hoggle, the apothecary owner, knows volumes more about him than I do.”

 

“I take it that you’re proposing that we go and rescue her” rumbled Murgon gravely, his brows furrowed.

 

Desmond stood, declaring: “Yes, he is.  And I am going as well.”

 

“Thank you Desmond. Yes, that is what I am proposing,” Robert replied soberly, looking defiant.

 

“And how do you propose we get to this castle?” queried Edmund, an edge to his voice.

 

“My father, a wise man, once told me that the way forward is sometimes the way back. I say that we try to recreate the circumstances of the night I stumbled into the Goblin King’s foul Labyrinth, and get back there.”

 

“And once we reach the castle, if we ever make it through the Labyrinth, what happens when the Goblin King shows up?  How do you plan on killing _him_?” demanded Edmund.

 

“I plan on killing him like you kill any other brute creature: with swords and arrows and pitchforks and spears—any weapon will do” replied Robert fiercely, eyes bright with vigor.

 

“Hmm…iron would do the job quite nicely, I should think” said Alberdore thoughtfully.

 

Robert looked questioningly at Alberdore, who re-lit his pipe and puffed on it for a few moments.

 

“Fae-kind are severely averse to iron.  By touch it disarms them greatly, and if it enters the bloodstream, ‘tis fatal.”

 

“Excellent!” exclaimed Desmond, pumping his fist in the air.

 

“You’re sure of this?” asked Robert, brows furrowed in his intensity.

 

“Yes” replied Alberdore, “I’m sure.  As long as you have iron, you can defeat him.  Equip all your men with iron and the Goblin King will be sufficiently easier to deal with.”

 

Robert banged his empty tankard on the table.  “Who will join me in ridding this land of the Goblin King, securing the welfare of our families, ensuring that no more children will be spirited away by either him or his foul hoard of stinking goblins?  Who will join me?”

 

A tumultuous ‘aye’ arose from the men in the room and they rose as one and left the pub out into the streaming sunshine, their breath rising in little clouds. Many bustled off in the direction of their homes to grab whatever weaponry they would find. Robert and Desmond hurried off after the blacksmith, Brayden, to obtain all the iron they could carry.

 

“Let me see here…” muttered Brayden to himself, shifting through the piles of metal and tools in his workshop.  He heaved a burlap sack onto his workbench with a heavy thunk.  He patted the side of the bag, the contents within clinking.

 

“These will be mighty handy,” said Brayden, reaching a hand into the bag and lifting a length of heavy chain out of the sack.  “Iron chain. That creature Didymus had it made, but I’m sure that he won’t mind if we use it for a greater good.”

 

“It’s perfect,” replied Robert, nodding as Desmond hefted the bag onto a push cart.

 

Brayden piled a few more tools and implements and heaved it back to the road.

 

Murgon rode up in a wagon and stopped beside the three men and began loading the iron into the wagon.

 

“We should have no trouble with all this here” rumbled Murgon, surveying the load in the wagon.

 

“I would sure hope not,” replied Desmond, wiping the sweat off of his brow. “Is everyone back yet?”

 

“Nearly,” replied Murgon, looking over the assembled men, “How about we wait a few more minutes for the rest of the men to arrive, eh Robert?”

 

“Yes, but not too long.  Goodness knows how long it will take us to find the Labyrinth, much less make our way through it. It would be wise for us to make haste.”

 

The men mulled around for a few minutes, checking supplies and calling bracing words to one another as they waited for the stragglers to arrive.

 

“All right,” called Robert once all of the men had returned, “Let’s be off.”

 

The mob began forward on the road, out of the town and into the shelter of the forest path beyond.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

It was Desmond who spotted the stone walls of the Labyrinth first, thinking that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  He called out to Robert, who hurried over to see what the fuss was about. When he saw the Labyrinth, his face broke into a wide triumphant smile.

 

“Here! Over here gents! The Labyrinth! Over here!”  Robert crowed triumphantly, waving his arms wildly in the air to gain the attention of the crowd.

 

The men made their way through the bushes and bramble until the walls of the Labyrinth loomed above them, silent and imposing.

 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” breathed Edmund, astonished, “There really is a Labyrinth.”

 

“How do we get in?” Murgon asked, pulling his cart to a stop.

 

“There was a set of large double doors set into the wall,” replied Robert, patting the wall in a self-satisfied way, “great wooden ones, carved with all sorts of queer designs and figures.”

 

“Oi!” called one of the men who was looking further down the wall, “Over here!”

 

Robert hurried over to the man who was shifting dried vines aside to reveal the doors. Some more men rushed forward to pry the doors open, revealing the long corridor Robert had first encountered when he had stumbled into the Labyrinth all those months ago.

 

Robert clambered up on to a rock and waved his arms until everyone was silent.

 

“My fellow me, I entreat you to stay on your guard as we travel through this maze. Nothing is as it seems in there, and I warrant that the Goblin King has some sort of alarm that will alert him to our presence.  We must be ready to fight once we make it through the Labyrinth, through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered.”

 

From the men there arose a general roar of approval and they started through the doors of the Labyrinth, brandishing their motley weapons, sneers of savage triumph spreading across their faces as they set out to kill the Goblin King.

 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: Another chapter! I can’t deny that I was humming “The Mob Song” from Disney’s BATB the whole time I was writing this chapter. I hope that everyone is having a lovely February!  I can’t believe that January is already gone!**

**On to a little bit of business: I have been pretty faithful in posting chapters every other week, but I am afraid that the schedule may be rearranged a bit for the months of Feb and March.  I have a pretty full load of classes this semester that require me to spend several hours a day in class, and many hours after doing homework and projects. In addition, I have a very important portfolio review in the middle of March that will determine whether or not I will be allowed to continue on studying Graphic Design. Every spare minute that I can manage between now and then will be spent on fixing my old projects for portfolio.  I will do my best to keep up posting regularly, but don’t be alarmed if a chapter comes a week late!**

 

**Anyways, please read and review!  I really makes my day!  Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 


	30. Live and Die

**_  
Chapter 25_**

_ Live and Die _

_  
_

_“Yes, I will live and die for him,_

_if he ever comes and makes me_

_love him in spite of myself, and_

_you must do the best you can.”_

_-“Little Women” by Louisa M. Alcott_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah woke fretfully that morning, blinking at the sharp shafts of sunlight that penetrated her room.  She sat up stiffly, groaning as she rubbed at the crick in her neck.  She stared around her room uncomprehendingly for a moment, wondering why on earth she had not pulled the curtains shut the night before. As she moved to get out of bed, her hand met something small and hard laying on her bed. Sarah looked down curiously and moved her hand away quickly as if she had been burned by the small box.

 

Sarah got up and determinedly turned her back to the bed, resolving to ignore the ring box, its contents, and the circumstances under which it had been given.

 

Sarah stubbornly went about her daily routine, trying with all her might to ignore the Goblin King’s gift. After about an hour of doing her daily toilette (whereupon she would glance up every so often to look surreptitiously at the box nestled in the rumpled bedclothes) Sarah conceded defeat, deciding that a ride would do wonders in clearing her head.

 

She fastened a cloak around her shoulders and reluctantly stuffed the little box into her pocket, fervently praying that she would not run into the Goblin King on her way out to the stables.

 

Sarah reached the stables in due time, without any incidents involving the Goblin King. She quickly harnessed Greatheart and trotted away from the stables at a smart gallop.

 

Sarah did not cease this pace until she had put some distance between her and the castle, slowing Greatheart into a leisurely walk. She glanced around, and seeing no sign of goblin, owl, or Goblin King, steered Greatheart to a patch of clover that was peeking through the snow.

 

Sarah dismounted and sat down heavily, leaning up comfortably against a tree.  She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and laying her chin on her knees, staring moodily at Greatheart, but not really seeing him.

 

Sarah slowly pulled the box out of her pocket and flicked open the clasp, lifting the lid. She stared at the ring, its implications and consequences weighing heavily on her mind. It glittered dimly in the filtered light, as if trying to reassure her that it was indeed nothing but a ring, and that it would behoove her to put it on.

 

Sarah shut the lid with a sharp snap and rolled the box around in her hands as Jareth had done the night before, thinking hard.

 

The Goblin King wanted to marry her, to spend the rest of eternity with her in wedded bliss at the castle in the center of the Labyrinth.

 

 _Admit it_ part of her mind wheedled, _you have some feelings for the Goblin King._

_Do not!  Well…perhaps…I-I don’t know…_ replied Sarah’s other side, the side that was frightened and confused and altogether quite distraught over the whole situation.

 

 _Aha!_ The voice in her mind crowed, _So you admit it!  You do have feelings for him!_

_Why yes…yes, I suppose I do…_

_Sarah dear,_ the voice continued on in a business-like way _, you really must buck up and stop being so frightened of what you might find out about yourself if you do realize that you love Jareth. He loves you, against all odds, and yet you see it fit to refuse him time and time again, even though deep down inside, you feel the same._

_I do not! I-I just…I…_

Sarah looked down at the little box that she held in her hand, and opened it once more. She plucked the ring out and set the box down on the snowy ground beside her, her eyes never leaving the ring.

 

 _Hurm._ Her mind made a sound of disapproval. _Really Sarah, what do you have to lose?_

_My heart._

_Oh really!_ The little voice of truth in her mind was really starting to sound like an exasperated Karen as the mental battle wore on. _Jareth has already lost his heart—to YOU. I can assure you that your heart could never be in any better care than his. Would it really be so terrible to finally admit that you love him too?_

_Yes,_ retorted Sarah defiantly, _he is rude and cruel and intimidating.  He stole me away from my family not once but twice, and he…he…_.She faltered, her protests drifting off into incoherence.

 

 _I think that you are fighting a losing battle m’dear_ , the other half of her mind replied softly, _That isn’t what he is like completely, now is it?  What about his good side?  What about the Jareth that changed because of you?  The one that emerged from the shell of the Goblin King because you came here and changed him and made him love you, though it was not your intention?_

Sarah sat still and thought quietly for a moment, memories of Jareth rushing into her head. She remembered the first time she had seen Jareth, imposing and terrible as the Goblin King. She remembered when she had run away from him after their terrible dinner and how he’d played a cruel game with her by letting her think for a whole week that she had gotten away from him, only to appear suddenly at the masked ball and spirit her away hours later.

 

However, he had also saved her from the Minotaur and had been hurt because of it. He had been so kind to her. He’d changed from the imposing Goblin King garbed in black goblin-made armor into a kind, lonely man who loved her.  He _loved_ her.

 

…And she loved him.

 

Sarah gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth as if frightened by the sound.

 

_She loved him._

Sarah’s mind wheeled uncomfortably as she processed this revelation.  She clutched her hands tightly together and started as something small poked her hands.  Sarah looked down and opened her hands slowly to reveal the ring. A smile sprang unbidden to her lips at the thought of Jareth and his utter and complete devotion to her, and now hers to him.  She slipped the ring on her finger and held her hand up to admire the play of light on the shining band.

 

Her heart felt light and airy, and Sarah felt truly and completely happy.

 

_He loved her and she loved him._

Sarah sprang joyfully to her feet and spun in a circle, giggling delightedly.  She threw her arms around Greatheart’s neck and kissed his nose fondly.

 

Greatheart simply snorted in response and went back to munch on the delicious clover, grateful that he was only a horse, and therefore could not be persuaded to fathom oddities of a girl in love.

 

Sarah spun again, feeling quite giddy.  She stopped and looked around furtively, as if she was a small child who was apprehensive of being caught stealing cookies before dinner.

 

“I love Jareth,” she said shyly, as if afraid someone would hear.

 

Greatheart didn’t even lift his head at her timid declaration, instead contenting himself to eat some thistle that he had found hidden among the clover.

 

Sarah repeated her declaration, louder this time.

 

“I love Jareth!”

 

The crisp morning air lay undisturbed by her proclamation, but Sarah was completely and utterly changed.

 

“I love him! Really, truly I do! I love Jareth, King of the Goblins with all my heart!”

 

She lifted her hand again to look at the ring that was the symbol of their love and dedication to one another.  She smiled a glittering smile at the thought for a moment before her smiled faded. It was true that the ring symbolized love for Sarah, but for Jareth, it was still only hope, hope that Sarah would love him in return, not because of his curse, but because he loved her. It was cruel of Sarah to rejoice out here in the forest while Jareth was still unawares of Sarah’s changed affections for him.  Sarah rose swiftly to her feet, beaming in anticipation of going to Jareth now that she saw him in this new light.

 

Just then, a gunshot rang out, followed by a harsh shout, both echoing loudly throughout the still forest.  At the gunshot, Greatheart’s head shot up and he bolted, sprinting wildly off into the forest, Sarah whirling around to try to stop him, but alas, in vain.

 

Sarah groaned and then froze, listening hard to the voices that drifted out over the treetops. Male voices. _Many_ male voices, in fact, angry and harsh voices. It was the sound of a mob.

 

Heart thrumming wildly in her chest, Sarah spun around and dashed off in the direction of the castle, running towards the thing that matted the most in her life now, the one thing that was, at this moment, in mortal peril: Jareth.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Robert groaned and thwacked Desmond hard over the head, letting out a loud volley of curses that would have made a sailor blush.

 

Desmond winced and lowered his still-smoking gun.

 

Murgon pulled up in his cart beside the two men, his face dark and angry.

 

“Why the bleeding hell did you do that?” he thundered at Desmond, waving a large hand in the air. “You’ve just alerted the damn beast to our presence!  What did you think you were shooting at?”

 

“I-I thought I saw a goblin,” muttered Desmond reproachfully, scuffing the toe of his boot in the dirt.  “I thought it could be a sentry or something.”

 

“A rabbit, more like” raged Robert, glowering at Desmond.

 

“I’m sorry, all right?” snapped Desmond testily, glaring at the two men.  “I really did think that I saw a goblin. I didn’t want it running off to its master.  I didn’t think about the noise of the gun.”

 

“You’re right about not thinking,” grumbled Robert.  He passed a hand over his face, sighing heavily.  “I know your heart was in the right place Desmond, but I beg you, _think before you act_. Many a man’s life is at stake here, including yours.  Another folly like that could be fatal for all of us.”

 

“Well,” rumbled Murgon heavily, climbing back up into his cart, “The damage is done, I suppose. The Goblin King knows we are coming.  We no longer have the element of surprise.”

 

The men continued on, walking in nervous silence as the castle loomed high above them. Once the mob had reached the stairs that led up to the large imposing doors of the nefarious Goblin King, they halted.  Silently, Murgon and Brayden began to unload the cart, distributing iron to all the men, looping chain on their belts or grasping tools in their steady hands.

 

Robert motioned and the men began moving forward, stealthily making their way up the marble steps of the castle.  All heaved a collective breath as the great doors opened, creaking eerily as they swung inward. The men crept silently into the entrance hall, peering keenly into every darkened corner and shadowed doorway for any sign of their adversary.

 

Desmond suddenly nudged Robert hard in the ribs, pointing up the stairs to an open door from within which shone the flickering light of a candle.  The mob moved quietly up the stairs, pausing for a moment before bursting through the doors en masse, snarling and weapons raised.

 

Most of the room lay in shadows, save for the part of the room that was illuminated by a small circle of light that was cast on the floor by a candelabra mounted by the door. It was a large circular room, with windows lining the far side, and in the center of the room was a large throne, and on that throne sat a shadowy figure.

 

The dark figure spoke wryly, toying with a dimly glowing crystal in one gloved hand.   “Ah yes, my unexpected guests.  So kind of you to give me a few minutes warning of your presence here.  I fear I would have been completely surprised by your arrival otherwise.” 

 

“Where is she?” snarled Robert fiercely, taking a few bold steps forward.  “Where is my daughter?  What have you done to her?”

 

“Ah, Mr. Williams. How good it is to see you again,” replied the Goblin King sardonically, nodding his blonde head. “I’m afraid I do not know where Sarah is, presently.  Why should I know where she is every blasted moment?”

 

Robert blanched slightly, but carried resolutely on. “I know of your intentions for her, Goblin King, and I can assure you that I would rather die than see Sarah subjected to such a fate.”

 

“I see,” said the Goblin King rather bitterly, an undercurrent of sadness lacing his voice, “And how do you know that this has not already come to pass?”

 

Robert froze for a moment, distracted by this possibility.  His common sense soon caught up with his racing thoughts, however, and he spoke confidently.

 

“If this were true, then you would know where she is.  She would be here with you, most likely.”

 

“Touché,” returned the Goblin King breezily.  “And why should I return her to you, monsieur?  A deal is a deal.  A rose for an eternity here with me.  Why berate me for trying to make an eternity a little more enjoyable between me and Sarah?  An eternity is such a dreadfully long time to be angry with one another.”

 

“Set her free” Robert snarled, brandishing his weapon.  The other men around him followed suit.

 

Jareth rose fluidly from his throne, magic crackling in the air like static electricity.

 

“Never.”

 

“Then you have chosen death!” roared Robert, unfurling a length of iron chain.

 

The crystal in Jareth’s palm glowed briefly for a moment before it lengthened, morphing into a handsome bronze sword.

 

Jareth spoke, ice and menace dripping off his every word.

 

“As have you.”

 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

 

**2009 AN:WELL! I hope that this makes up for my lateness in posting! I can’t tell you, dear readers, how much I wanted to slip in a “my precious” during Sarah’s little argument with herself over the ring/Jareth.  Gollum would have been quite impressed! In other news, there was a tiny _Watchmen_ reference hidden in there! (Random, I know.)  Those who have read the graphic novel will probably find it!**

**Also- iamthepirateking (flaming-pineapples on DeviantArt) has made an amazing fanart of Jareth from this story from chapter 23.  I’ve posted a link in my profile!  It is very cool, so go and check it out!**

**I’m afraid that this next chapter will be late too as I have a friend coming to visit me at school next week, and because midterms are in two weeks and portfolio in four which means that I have time for little else besides homework!  Sorry about the delay!  It will *hopefully* be up on March 19 th.  Once portfolio is over, my life won’t be quite as hectic!**

 

**Anyways, please read and review!  I really makes my day!  Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 


	31. Always

**_Chapter 26_**

_ Always _

_  
_

_“Hear this now: I will always come for you.”_

_“But how can you be sure?”_

_“This is true love- you think this happens every day?”_

_-“The Princess Bride” 1987_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

_“Then you have chosen death” roared Robert, unfurling a length of iron chain._

_The crystal in Jareth’s palm glowed briefly before it lengthened, morphing into a handsome bronze sword._

_Jareth spoke, ice and menace dripping off his every word._

_“As have you.”_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

 

Robert hesitated for a moment a Jareth’s words.  Jareth noticed his reluctance and a wry grimace  stretched across his face.

 

“You cannot defeat me,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “Do not throw away your lives so rashly. Go home and forget this madness. Sarah would not want me to harm any of you, but I will do so if I am forced.”

 

He lowered the sword in his hand.

 

Instead of lowering his weapons as well, Robert brandished his own higher, his anger flaring.

 

“We shall not leave until I have Sarah again, and you are dead.”

 

Jareth’s brows drew in as Robert said this.

 

“I will never let you take Sarah from me” snarled Jareth, lifting his blade to meet Robert’s.

 

“You took her from me!” raged Robert, matching Jareth’s fury in equal measure.

 

“I love her!” roared Jareth, taking a step forward.

 

“You _what_?” hissed Robert, his worst fears confirmed.

 

“I love her, and I’ll be damned if you take her away from me.  I have been here on this earth for longer than you can imagine, and never before have I met anyone quite like Sarah.”

 

Robert hardly heard Jareth’s reply.  His mind had drifted back to the conversation that he, Desmond, and Hoggle had had in the pub not but a week ago.  He had feared that the Goblin King would fall in love with Sarah.  What was troubling Robert now was Hoggle’s parting words, words that made Robert’s blood run cold.

 

_“What do you propose we do Hoggle?”_

_Hoggle turned briefly back to the men at the table._

_“Hope she falls in love with him.”_

Robert felt his heart skip a beat.

 

“Does she love you?” asked Robert quietly.

 

“What?”

 

Anger still clouded Jareth’s face.

 

“Does Sarah love you?” Robert shouted, the iron chains at his waist clinking wildly in his fury. “Does she love you in return?”

 

The stormy look on Jareth’s face faded as quickly as it had come, replaced by a heavy look of bitter despair.

 

“No.”

 

Robert let out a sigh of quiet relief.

 

“Leave me in peace.”

 

Jareth turned his back on the men, striding mournfully back to his throne.  It was at this moment that Desmond seized his chance, hurling a length of iron chain through the air at Jareth. Jareth turned swiftly at the whistling sound of the chain flying through the air, but was hit in spite of his speed.  The chain crashed soundly into him, draping itself cruelly over his shoulder and around his left arm.  Jareth grunted, falling heavily to his knees, his right hand landing on his throne as if trying to support his weight.  His sword crashed to the ground, the sound ringing throughout the room as the disarming nature of the metal spread its way throughout his body.

 

The mob roared with triumph, surging forward.

 

Jareth groaned and struggled to get up, gaining his footing.  The mob drew back, unsure.  Jareth gnashed his teeth as he grasped at the chain that impaired him, managing to free his shoulder with some effort.  He shook off the chain that encircled his arm. It crashed to the ground in a cacophony of clinking metal.  Jareth stepped over the pile of iron at his feet, picking up his sword as he did so. He lifted it with a great effort.

 

“You will have to do better than that if you want to beat me, I’m afraid” said Jareth coolly. “All you have accomplished is making me very, very angry.”

 

A low snarl emanated from the darkened edges of the room as he spoke.  The men recoiled slightly in horror as small grey-green figures slunk into view, hefting miniature but lethal-looking weapons, and stinking of cooked cabbage and earwax.

 

“You look surprised,” remarked Jareth amusedly, interpreting the looks on the men’s faces. “I suppose you do recall that I am the _Goblin_ King.  It would not be fair for you all to leave my castle without meeting my lovely goblins…”

 

“Steady…” cautioned Robert, trying to calm the men.  He turned back to the Goblin King. 

 

“You will not keep Sarah away from me!”

 

“Nor will you” replied Jareth.

 

“Have pity! She is my only daughter, beloved me and my family!  She is all that I have!” pled Robert.

 

“You showed no pity to my roses.  You caused more damage with than little stunt than you can ever imagine.  Fair is fair.  Sarah for the rose.”  The goblins slunk into place behind their master, eagerly waiting for his command. “She stays here.  Forever.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sarah struggled, ankle-deep in slush, her skirts caked with mud. These factors, combined with her mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion had slowed her pace, only to increase her frantic despair.  To top it all off, a storm was blowing in from the west, sending jets of frigid air howling through the trees, chilling Sarah to the bone.  She’d caught a glimpse of the castle’s turrets through the treetops, but even this did not cheer her.  The mob had such a large lead on her. Would she be able to make it to Jareth on time?

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Not far from Sarah in the immense gardens of the castle beyond the Labyrinth, Jareth’s roses nodded their heavily-blossomed heads gently up and down as the storm blew in, growing blusterier as it drew nearer, darkening the sky as it approached. A few velvety petals detached themselves from a large crimson rose, tossing around in the gale.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

A small pang shot through Jareth’s heart, and he clutched at it, grimacing at the pain. Someone must have found his roses… He must be rid of these men, for if this continued, he would not be fit to fight them, and all would be lost.

 

“Let us be done with this nonsense.  All of you must leave here and never return.  You cannot defeat me, and I do not wish to destroy you.  Leave now, and never return.”

 

“As I have told you before, not without Sarah,” snarled Robert.  He lashed out at the Goblin King, swinging his heavy sword.

 

Jareth parried the blow easily, almost lazily, with a flick of his wrist, and returned the blow. The harsh clang of metal rang out as blade met blade.  Robert grunted as the weight of the blow traveled down his arm.  Jareth struck out again and again, Robert hastily blocking each blow with clumsy difficulty.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

In the rose garden, the wind was picking up steadily, the roses moving erratically now, a cloud of velvety petals swirling around in the tearing wind.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Jareth stumbled, clutching at his heart again.  Robert seized his chance of this second lapse in the Goblin King’s defense, rushing forward and herding Jareth backward with the iron in his hands, forcing Jareth back until he fell in a heap on his throne.  The goblins scurried backwards with their king, bewildered at his retreat.  Some of the other men were by Robert’s side, and in a flash they had the Goblin King trapped under a pile of iron chain and tools.

 

Robert straightened up, panting, until he was face to face with the Goblin King.

 

“Give me Sarah.”

 

Jareth gasped and struggled with the iron.  His head fell forward his chest in his pain, his hair masking his face. He started to shake, a low chuckling emanating from behind the veil of hair.

 

“What the hell is your problem?” growled Desmond, looking at the Goblin King as if he was absolutely insane.

 

Jareth lifted his head, a pained smile on his face.  He grunted a single word.

 

“Charge.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Sarah ran on, tears streaking down her face.  She burst through the tree line, the front steps of the castle only a few hundred meters away.  She felt something akin to hope as she saw this, and she redoubled her efforts, her mind firmly fixed on the thought of saving Jareth.

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The goblins surged forward at Jareth’s command, overwhelming the mob, which had trouble trying to fend off the creatures, most of whom barely reached the men’s kneecaps. The mob retreated, driven out of the throne room by the goblins, and chased all over the castle, delivering a volley of blows to shins and knees.

 

Jareth chuckled weakly a few times at this scene before letting his head fall forward once again, succumbing to the pain and his own weariness.  He could feel that something had happened to his roses, his heart felt even more changed.  It beat sluggishly in his breast, each beat more reluctant than the previous.

 

His heart…

 

Sarah. Dear Sarah who had stolen his heart.  Everything that he had done, he had done for her, and gladly.  He loved her, madly and passionately, regardless of her feelings for him. She had turned his world upside down just with her mere presence. She was his savior and his redeeming grace.  She had taught him kindness instead of cruelty and forgiveness instead of eternal hatred.  He would have loved her forever, if fate had not been so cruel to him. Jareth’s mind became foggier and foggier, his thoughts trailing off into disjointed incoherence. 

 

If only he could have seen her, one last time…

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

 

**2009 AN: Am I the only one who imagined Jareth doing a Westley (Princess Bride) during this chapter?  I was sorely tempted to copy Westley’s little “drop your sword” speech, but I thought that it might be a bit much.  The imagery will have to suffice! Also: GOBLINS!**

**Another chapter! Huzzah! Sorry that these last chapters have been taking me so long!  Not only do I have a lot of work to do (last week was midterms, and this week has been spring break, where I have been working on my portfolio pieces) but I also want to do justice to these chapters, and finish this story up right!  I have two more chapters planned after this one, and then this story is done!  I can’t believe it!  I started this last May, and here I am, nearly a year later with a multi-chapter BATB/Laby fic! Look for the next chapter on April 9 th! **

 

**Anyways, please read and review!  I really makes my day!  Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**


	32. Love and Death

****

**_Chapter 27_**

_ Love and Death _

_  
_

_“Death cannot stop true love,_

_it can only delay it for a little while.”_

_-“The Princess Bride” 1987,_

_book by S. Morgenstern_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

Sheets of sleet began to bear down on Sarah as she hurried up the marble steps of the castle, slipping as she got halfway up the stairs and falling roughly to her knees. Sarah laboriously got up and finished ascending the steps, pushing the heavy front doors open with an effort.  Inside the castle was chaos, with men and goblins running about in a frenzied kind of dance, the men trying to fend off the goblins, who were clobbering the men from the knees-down, and the goblins trying to fell the mighty giants who had harassed their king.

 

Sarah hurriedly made her way through the great hall, trying to avoid the ruckus. She spun wildly in a circle, looking about, to try to spot Jareth, but all she could see was the roiling mass of goblins and men.  Sarah spun again, not knowing where to start looking.  She urged her weary feet to move, weaving in and out of the battling men and goblins. 

 

Sarah hurried about, peering through every doorway she came across to try to spot the Goblin King.  As she hurried down the marble corridors, the ruckus of the castle seemed to die away the further she traversed from the great entrance hall.  She peered through the darkness that lay beyond the doors to the dining hall, searching for any sign of movement.  She stole quickly down the silent halls, letting her feet take her in any direction that they willed.  She found herself in front of a familiar doorway, the stairs through the doorway leading into soft darkness. Sarah’s heart gave a little pang of recognition as she saw the stairs.  She carefully navigated her way down the steps, heart in her throat. 

 

Sarah recoiled as something crunched under her foot as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Sarah peered around at the room, the dim light that came in through the windows as her only aid. Sarah let out a little cry as she saw the shards of glittering crystal littered around the room. She carefully navigated through the room, gently tracing a hand over the broken mirrors that lined the wall, as if she couldn’t quite believe that what she saw before her was real. She knelt down by the wreckage of the table that had sat so prettily in the center of the room, pulling from beneath it a ripped scrap of wrapping paper that had covered the book that Sarah had made for Jareth.

 

Something shiny caught Sarah’s eye and she reached down once more and picked up the little gilt card that had adorned the package, inscribed with the simple phrase: “To Jareth, from Sarah.”  Tears pricked at Sarah’s eyes, and she wiped them away angrily.  She would not sit here sniveling while Jareth was somewhere in this castle, trapped and needing her help. 

 

Sarah stood up and briskly brushed the shards of crystal from her skirt as she strode purposefully back up the stairs and out once more through the dim halls of the castle, calling Jareth’s name as she went.

 

“Jareth? Jareth? Jareth!  It’s Sarah…I’ve come to help you! Jareth? Oh Jareth, where are you?”

 

Sarah picked up her skirts and began to run down the hall, calling for Jareth all the while. Suddenly, someone hurried out of a doorway not far from Sarah, colliding with her.  Sarah let out a frightened cry and nearly fell, but was steadied by the thing that she had run into.

 

“Oof!” Sarah looked up and gasped. “Desmond!  What are you doing here?”

 

“Sarah! We’ve come here to rescue you! Come, we must hasten to find your father so that we may flee from this accursed place!”  Desmond tugged on Sarah’s arm in an attempt to get her to follow. Sarah, however, stayed resolutely put.

 

“No.”

 

“What? Come, we must hurry…”

 

“I said no, Desmond,” snarled Sarah, wrenching her arm from his grasp.

 

“But Sarah, we’ve freed you from the clutches of that wretched creature, so that you may finally be free to come home!”

 

“You’ve…” Sarah slowly began to comprehend Desmond’s words, and as she did so, her face blanched and she rushed forward at Desmond, grabbing the lapels of his jacket roughly.

 

“What! What have you done? Tell me!”

 

Bewilderment shone plainly on Desmond’s face at Sarah’s words.

 

“We…we, uh, caught the Goblin King, Sarah.”

 

“Where!” Sarah cried, desperately pleading.  She blanched once more as a thought stole into her mind.

 

“You…you haven’t…” Sarah forced back a choked sob at the thought, but fought bravely on. “You haven’t…k-killed…” Despite her bravery, Sarah’s voice wavered off as she voiced the painful thought.

 

“I-I don’t know,” replied Desmond hesitantly, as if catching on that he had been in the wrong with his previous actions that evening.

 

Sarah’s breath hitched with barely suppressed emotion at the vague answer.

 

“Where.” Sarah choked out the painful word.

 

“The throne room, but Sarah…”

 

Before Desmond could say anything more, Sarah turned tail and ran as hard as she could, her weary muscles aching in protest, though no muscle in her body ached as sorely as did her heart.  Sarah rounded a corner and stood shaking for a moment before the doors of the throne room.

 

 

Heart beating wildly in her chest, Sarah cautiously pushed open the doors of the throne room, frightened of what she may see once she stepped through them.  The room was dimly lit; spluttering candles on the walls castle their feeble light in the room.

 

Sarah gasped and rushed forward to the still figure of Jareth trapped beneath the pile of life-sapping iron.

 

“Oh Jareth!”

 

Sarah began to excavate Jareth from beneath the metal, the tools and chain falling to the stone floor with a deafening clatter.  “Jareth dear, you have to lean forward so that I can unwrap this chain from around you.  Jareth, can you hear me?”

 

Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes as Jareth remained unresponsive.  She lowered her face into her hands and sobbed, sinking to her knees on the cold stone floor, utterly devastated. 

 

“Oh Jareth…”

 

“S-ssarah?”

 

Sarah’s head shot up at the sound of Jareth’s voice, rising quickly to her feet and rushing to Jareth’s side once more, her cheeks stained with tears.

 

“Jareth? I’m here. Let me help you…”

 

“What…what are you doing here?” he grunted, attempting to sit up.

 

“I’m here to rescue you, of course,” replied Sarah, smiling weakly. 

 

“Who said I needed help?” asked Jareth, a shadow of a grin flitting across his face.

 

“I did, you silly Goblin King.”

 

Sarah helped Jareth to lean forward, unwrapping the chains that both encircled and hindered him.

 

“But, your father…he is here to take you…”

 

“He is doing what he thinks is right,” said Sarah, throwing the last of the chains to the ground with a clatter, “And so am I. I love my father dearly, but sometimes his good intentions become misplaced when his mind leads him to a fallacious conclusion. Things aren’t always what they seem in this place.  I shall live wherever I please, with whomever I wish, and no power in the

‘verse cam stop me from doing that.”

 

Jareth looked up at Sarah uncomprehendingly.  His pale brows drew slightly, concern stealing over his face.

 

“You have been crying.”  He laboriously reached a hand up to trace the paths the tears had left on her face.

 

Sarah closed her eyes and covered his hand with her own.

 

“You have been crying for me?”

 

Sarah nodded, the tears running down her face once more.  She opened her eyes to find Jareth staring intently at her.

 

“Y-yes.”

 

“Then it seems that my life has not been lived in vain as I had feared, for I have loved you more dearly that life itself, and perhaps even loved in return, for ever so briefly.”

 

“Jareth…”

 

“I love you Sarah, most ardently. I--” Jareth broke off as his gaze fell on the hand that Sarah held clasped over his own.  “You are wearing the ring that I gave you” Jareth marveled, quiet wonder in his eyes.

 

“Indeed I am,” replied Sarah softly, reaching a hand up to stroke Jareth’s hair.

 

Jareth grabbed her hand and kissed it, keeping it tenderly bound between his.

 

“I am glad,” sighed Jareth, “I only wish that I- -augh!”

 

Jareth suddenly grimaced in pain, clutching at his chest.

 

“Jareth!” Sarah exclaimed, instinctively reaching forward, trying to help in some small way.

 

“I feat that it is too late for me, my dearest Sarah.  It seems that my many years of cruelness and pitilessness have finally caught up to me.”

 

“No…Jareth, please” whispered Sarah tremulously, the tears returning to her eyes.

 

“Do not hold your father responsible for what has happened here, for it is my own wretched fault. I am truly sorry for forcing you to leave your family to come here to live with me.  I did not realize then…” Jareth drifted off, lost in his thoughts.

 

“Jareth, stop talking like this, you’re frightening me.  We’re together now…I’ll nurse you back to health, just as before, you’ll see.”

 

“It’s only forever…” Jareth sighed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he opened them heavily, “Nay, ‘tis not long now.”

 

“Oh Jareth, no! Please no! Don’t leave me!” Sarah choked out desperately.

 

“I will not say ‘do not weep,’ my precious Sarah, for not all tears are an evil.” His eyes drifted shut once more, and his breathing became more labored.

 

Sarah threw herself forward onto Jareth’s chest, sobbing incoherent protests and laments, feeling the uneven and sluggish beats of Jareth’s heart as it slowed.

 

A thin smile stretched across the Goblin King’s face as Sarah embraced him.

 

“I love…I-I love you, Sarah…forever.”

 

Sarah’s sobbing increased, feeling quite as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest.

 

_Thump, thump, thump, thump…thump…thump…thump…silence._

Sarah’s head flew up to look into the face of the once-mighty Goblin King, which now was still and peaceful.

 

“Jareth? Jareth! Oh please…” Sarah sobbed, burying her face once more on Jareth’s chest.

 

“I love you.”

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

 

**2009 AN: Sorry about the long wait for this chapter! Not only did I want to write a good chapter (the second to last one!) but I have been unbelievably busy! Also, sorry about the cliffhanger! You all should know by now that I love them dearly! I can just imagine the panicked e-mails that will be popping up in my inbox after this chapter goes up. (You all should ALSO know by now that I couldn’t stop this happily ever after, even if I tried!) I can’t believe that this next chapter will be the last of this story! I’m not making any promises, but from the looks of my notes, it is gearing up to be a pretty long one! Look for the next chapter when you least expect it! It is going to take me a while to write!**

**Side note for those of you who enjoy this: spot the LOTR reference! Also, from a newfound love of mine, spot the Firefly reference!**

**Also-I uploaded a new deviation to DeviantArt.  I always wonder how some of my favorite authors go about writing their stories, what their handwriting looks like, etc, so I uploaded pictures of in-progress pics of the writing of this chapter, for those who are curious how I write! Link in my profile!**

 

**Anyways, please read and review!  I really makes my day!  Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 

 


	33. Tale As Old As Time

**2009 AN: It is my very great pleasure to present the last chapter of my story: “Beauty and the Beast: A Labyrinthine Retelling.”**

****

**_Chapter 28_**

_ Tale As Old As Time _

_  
_

_"Still, I wonder if we shall ever be_

_put into songs or tales._

_We're in one, of course; but I mean:_

_put into words, you know, told by the fireside,_

_or read out of a great big book_

_with red and black letters,_

_years and years afterwards._

_And people will say:_

_'Lets hear about Frodo and the Ring!'_

_And they'll say:_

_"Yes, that's one of my favorite stories.'"_

_-J.R.R. Tolkien "The Two Towers"_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

_I love you._

All was deathly silent.

 

Sarah’s tear-stained face rose from Jareth’s chest sharply, staring aghast at Jareth’s stillness.

 

“Jareth?” Sarah breathed, not daring to speak above a whisper.  When she got no response, Sarah called out again, her hand hesitatingly rising to touch Jareth’s cheek.

 

As realization dawned over Sarah’s horrified consciousness, she began to shake with uncontrollable sobs.  After all she had done…after how hard she had tried to save Jareth, she…she…

 

Sarah buried her face in Jareth’s chest once more, sobbing incoherent curses and laments.

 

“Oh Jareth…I love you…I love you…”

 

Time itself seemed to hold its breath as Sarah spoke these words once more.  Sarah, blinded by pain and loss, did not notice the auspicious stillness, nor the quiet that had seemed to have descended to blanket the castle.

 

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the quiet was replaced by a low buzzing and humming in the air, building louder and louder.  The storm outside seemed to abate as the noise grew louder. The dark clouds drew back to reveal the dusky sky, which was awash in a fiery glow as the light from the setting sun was revealed.

 

Sarah looked up as the light of the sunset streamed in through the windows that lined the far side of the room.  Sarah’s tearstained face darkened in confusion as the humming noise met her ears and the light of the sunset dazzled her eyes.  The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up as electricity crackled through the room, making the air feel thick and taste slightly metallic.

 

Sarah rose to her feet slowly and unsteadily, bewildered by the strange events that were surrounding her, currently building to a crescendo.  Sarah took a few frightened steps back as a cool breeze began to whistle through the room, though no windows or doors were ajar.

 

The setting sun shone brightly in through the windows of the throne room, the light growing so intense that Sarah had to shield her eyes from the brilliant light. Sarah heard a tremendous cracking noise, as if some great stone had just been split in two. Sarah tried to perceive what had made the noise, but was blinded once more by the radiant sun.

 

Frightened, confused, and devoid of most of her senses, Sarah spun wildly, trying to figure out what it was that had caused the world to turn upside down.

 

Sarah felt, rather than saw, the sun’s beating rays die down, and she cracked open her eyes to try to see what was going on.

 

Sarah gasped.

 

Standing before her was a darkened figure, silhouetted by a golden halo cast by the setting sun. The figure stood quietly as Sarah’s eyes grew adjusted to the incandescent light.

 

Jareth took a step forward, spreading his arms wide, a dazzling smile stretched across his face.

 

Sarah stood motionless for a few moments, hardly daring to believe her eyes.

 

“J-Jareth? Is that really you?” Sarah managed to whisper, rubbing at her eyes to try to discern if she was hallucinating or really seeing him.

 

“Yes Sarah, it is.”

 

Sarah ran into his waiting arms, Jareth gladly receiving her, a hand gently tilting her face up to meet his.  They kissed softly, silhouetted by the chartreuse sun.

 

Jareth smiled down at Sarah, his face beaming with joy and love.  He took Sarah’s hand and gently placed it over his heart, which beat steadily in his breast.

 

“You have broken the enchantment, Sarah.  You have set me free.”

 

“I-I did?” said Sarah, dazed, still happily ensconced within Jareth’s arms.

 

“Yes, precious,” replied Jareth softly, tenderly placing a soft kiss on Sarah’s lips, “You did.”

 

Sarah beamed up at him, the golden glow that was emanating through the windows illuminating her face.

 

“You’re all right? You’re all healed now?”

 

“Utterly and completely, dearest.  Your love has redeemed me, and saved me, Sarah, from destruction brought on by my own hand.”

 

Sarah smiled and leaned into Jareth’s caress.

 

“You keep talking about my love…what about _your_ love, o-Goblin King?” asked Sarah demurely, raising a quizzical brow.

 

“Hmm…” mused Jareth, feigning a look of deep concentration. “You mean the love that I professed to  you, ah, quite some time ago, when you did not care to accept?”

 

He matched Sarah’s raised eyebrow with own of his own.  Sarah childishly stuck her tongue out at him. 

 

“Oh dear me, it was so long ago, I can hardly remember how I had phrased it…” He trailed off in mock concentration.

 

Sarah laughed at his intense countenance.  “You are quite the piece of work,” she teased, “you know that right?”

 

“Indeed I do m’dear. Let me see…I do believe that I offered you the moon and the stars, and you refused.”

 

“I don’t remember that,” Sarah contradicted, raising an eyebrow once more.

 

“Ah yes,” replied Jareth in a comically tragic tone, trying and failing to appear crestfallen. “The sun, you also refused, citing that the sun would not obey you, as it set every day without fail. You would not hear of me giving you your wishes either, as you declared that they were too paltry a gift.”

 

Jareth heaved a huge theatrical sigh, rumpling his hair so that it was wilder than ever.

 

“I do not believe that I offered you your dreams, however,” entreated Jareth quietly, smiling impishly at Sarah.

 

“No,” replied Sarah softly, as Jareth bent his head towards hers, “I don’t believe that you did.”

 

“Then it seems that I shall have to rectify this egregious error of mine,” murmured Jareth, his lips brushing Sarah’s once more.

 

Sarah pulled back slightly and spoke.  

 

“Just my dreams, though,” she smiled tenderly at Jareth, “Nothing more?”

 

“You demand much of me, my dear Sarah,” chuckled Jareth, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“This coming from the same Goblin King that demanded that I-oh, what was the phrase-‘fear me, love me, do as I say?’”  mimicked Sarah, taking on her most Goblin King-ish air.

 

“What can I say,” said Jareth cheekily, not a single drop of mortification or humility in his tone, “I cannot fall in love with just anyone, ‘tis not romantic.”

 

Sarah laughed, rolling her eyes at Jareth.  “I think we see eye to eye in that respect, my dear Goblin King.”  She traced a finger lightly over the designs on Jareth’s breastplate.  “So, I believe that you were offering me my dreams,” demurred Sarah turning the conversation effortlessly back to the matter at hand.

 

“Ah yes,” said Jareth, returning to business as well, “If your dreams shall not appease you, then I am afraid that the only thing that I have left to offer is my heart and all the love that it contains.”  He looked tenderly at Sarah, who returned his adoration in full.

 

“Yes, that is what I desire.  Your heart and your love are worth more to me than all the magic and all the treasures in all the world.  I will treasure it forever.”

 

“And your heart, beloved?” Jareth murmured his breath hot on Sarah’s ear, “To whom does your heart belong?”

 

“To the Goblin King,” Sarah replied softly, “For all eternity.”

 

“I am glad of it,” Jareth replied tenderly.

 

They kissed once more as the sun disappeared over the dark forest beyond the castle, casting fiery rays of light that illuminated the couple.

 

As the two parted, they smiled shyly at one another, and gently entwined their hands. Jareth lifted their joined hands, kissing the back of Sarah’s hand, which bore the ring that Jareth had given to her. 

 

“Sarah Williams, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

 

“Of course,” Sarah replied tremulously, not hesitating for a moment.

 

Jareth beamed at her.

 

“Come” said Jareth, pulling Sarah gently around the throne and past the pile of chains and iron that lay at its base.

 

Sarah’s eyes fell to the iron that lay there, and then looked at Jareth.

 

“You’re quite sure you’re fine?” queried Sarah, looking concernedly at her fiancé.

 

“Yes, between you and my goblins, I…” he trailed off for a moment, and his eyes widened slightly. “Excuse me for a moment…”

 

Jareth made his way purposefully over to the door to the throne room, and threw it wide open. Just then, a goblin scampered by, who glanced up at the figure the in the doorway, and then did a double take, staring at Jareth.

 

“King!” he said in a squeaky voice, stopping so abruptly mid-scamper that he slid a little on the stone floor.  “You’s alive!” He gestured to a few other goblins nearby, beckoning them closer, hollering, “Looks! The King’s alive!”

 

The grimy little creatures all scuttled over to see their beloved king, who smiled benignly at his subjects.

 

“Thanks to your help and the Lady Sarah’s, I am alive.  Please cease fighting with the men.  My quarrel with them is over, and I do not wish for any of you to harm them.  Spread the word to your brethren that the fight is over.  Please do not show them any more hostilities.”

 

The goblins, so relieved that their king was alive and well, tripped over each other in their haste as they dashed off in all directions to spread the order for the end of the fighting.  They scrambled all over the castle, spreading the word of their king’s recovery. The goblins who were still pelting the men of Bracknell Fen with blows to shins and kneecaps ceased their ministrations when they heard the good news, darting off with their fellows to help spread the good tidings, leaving the men confused and aching from the diminutive creatures.

 

Back in the throne room, Jareth, still by the door, held out his hand to Sarah, who crossed the room and took it, allowing herself to be led from the room and out into the corridor.  She watched curiously as goblins scampered by every so often, hollering greetings to their king, and gazing wide-eyed and reverently at Sarah as they passed.

 

Sarah and Jareth walked serenely arm-in-arm down the halls until they heard voices emanating from the dining room, catching snatches of discombobulated conversations.

 

“…I dunno, one minute I was getting the heck clobbered out of my shins by one of those little devils, and then a pack of ‘em came by and he just up and took off with all of his mates…”

 

“…what do you suppose is going on? I mean…”

 

“…this is why I try to stay away from the supernatural, nothing makes sense…”

 

Jareth grinned down at Sarah, who looked curiously up at him in return.  They passed through the doorway, startling the men who were grouped in the room.  Several of the men who were sitting rose hastily to their feet as Jareth and Sarah entered the room, bewildered and frightened, having lost many of their weapons when they had incapacitated Jareth, and most of the rest when they had been harassed by the goblins afterwards.

 

“Sarah!” Robert called out, taking a few bold steps forward before hesitating, glancing between Sarah and the imposing figure beside her. 

 

Sarah, however, rushed forward to embrace her father, leaving Jareth standing awkwardly by the door, uncertain as to whether or not he should go with Sarah or stay back.

 

“Sarah,” said Robert, as if he could not believe his eyes, “Sarah are you all right? Are you hurt?  Oh Sarah, I am so sorry…”

 

Sarah kissed her father lightly on the cheek, trying to hold in her tears at finally seeing her father again.

 

“Oh father, I’ve missed you so!” sobbed Sarah, holding her father tight, smiling at him through her tears.

 

Sarah, unaware of the extreme discomfort of the other men in the room, most of whom were slightly worse for wear due to their skirmishes with the goblins of the Labyrinth, turned to Jareth and beckoned for him to cross the room to where she and her father stood, not far from the disgruntled and frightened men of the town of Bracknell Fen.

 

Jareth hesitated for a moment, deterred by the looks on the men’s faces, and the scant iron tools and chain that the men had managed to retain, despite their altercations with the goblins, and the attack on Jareth himself.

 

“Before I do, Sarah,” Jareth urged, endeavoring to keep a mildly placating tone to his words, “You had better explain to your father and his friends that I mean to cause them no harm from me, my goblins, or my Labyrinth.  I do not wish to engender more fighting.”

 

Robert glared balefully at Jareth over his daughter’s head, wary of his eldritch foe.

 

“And why should I listen to you,” mused Robert defiantly, trying and failing to keep Sarah close to him.  Some of the other men murmured in assent.

 

“Father!” said Sarah, slightly shocked at her father’s hostility.  “All of you, please, just listen to what Jareth has to say!”

 

She quietly stepped out of her father’s embrace and faced Jareth, but not before glancing at the other men, trying to judge their attitudes towards this unprecedented and unexpected occurrence.  Desmond was scowling, clutching desperately to a set of iron tongs, and sporting a split lip. Brayden was easing himself back into a chair, nursing his bruised kneecaps, while Murgon surveyed the scene with passive stoicism. Some of the men were like Desmond, frightfully clutching what little bits of iron they still possessed, while others were like Brayden or Murgon, some looking on with blatant curiosity or excitement.

 

“I am truly sorry for what has occurred here,” avowed Jareth, spreading his arms wide in what was to be perceived as a peaceful and placating gesture.  He turned to Robert, directing his words now at the man.

 

“I am sorry for forcing you to send Sarah here.  It was unfair and cruel of me to force you to do so.” 

 

As Jareth spoke, a despondent tone crept into his voice.

 

“But you have to understand my desperation at that moment.  A man had managed to stumble his way through my Labyrinth, and what was more, he had picked one of my roses, roses that, once picked, depleted me of some of my life-force, rendering my heart more and more stone-like. What was more, he had a daughter and I had the upper hand since this man was trespassing on my property, and was a thief of one of my valuable roses.  Such an opportunity had not been presented to me in several centuries.  If there was just the slightest chance that I, by requiring this man to send his daughter here to live at my castle, would break the enchantment placed on me millennium ago, I took it, without compunction or a second thought.”

 

Robert didn’t speak, still glaring at Jareth, though his brows were softened slightly by pity.

 

“There was a flaw, however, in this brilliant plan of mine, something that I did not foresee, that I _could not_ foresee…” Jareth trailed off, lost in his own reminiscences.

 

“Which was what?” asked Robert, the harsh edge all by gone from his voice.

 

“I was so preoccupied with the idea of making, of _forcing_ , this headstrong and heartstrong girl to fall in love with me, that I did not realize that I had fallen into a trap of my own doing, that _I_ had fallen in love.”

 

Jareth looked at Sarah, his eyes full of an unreadable emotion.

 

“For all the world, I could not understand how such a force so powerful, so much more than cruelty or death, how _I_ had succumbed to such a mysterious and unyielding force.  How I had fallen in love.”

 

Jareth signed and raked a hand through his pale hair, making stand up wild as a lion’s mane.

 

“It was then that I realized how bitter and painful unrequited love could be, for though I loved her more than my own life and well-being, she loathed and hated me, and would have loved nothing more than for me to die.  Ironic, is it not?  Falling in love when trying to make another fall in love with yourself? I am sure that the enchantress who had placed the spell on me had foreseen that this would come to pass, and that it would cause me more pain and anguish than a slow and unstoppable death by one’s heart turning into stone.  There is no such pain in all the ‘verse that can compare to the pain of falling desperately in love with someone who hates you.”

 

Jareth paused and looked down at his gloved hands, unaware that he held a captive audience.

 

“I could not force Sarah to love me then, not once I had fallen in love with her.  No, I would suffer in silence, until I had passed from this world to the next.  I was too selfish, however, to let her go, to free her from this prison that I had imposed upon her.  I could not bear the thought of losing her, of never seeing her again, of her falling in love with another.  It seemed that I was still cruel, though Cupid’s arrow had softened me.  As the days passed on, I began to despair and lose all hope that Sarah’s opinion of me would change, for who could love someone as cruel and unrelenting as myself?”

 

Jareth’s fists clenched and his face darkened.  Sarah, refusing to bear the pain of Jareth’s suffering any longer, walked over to where he stood, and silently slipped her hand into his.  Jareth smiled weakly from her, seeming to draw some courage and strength from her touch.  Without looking from Sarah, he spoke.

 

“But then, something changed.  Some part of the universe finally aligned…something mysterious and miraculous and unexpected and…and…well,   _perfect_ happened…”

 

Jareth gazed affectionately at Sarah, who blushed.

 

“…And Beauty fell in love with the Beast.”

 

All was quiet as Jareth said this, all eyes trained on the happy pair who stood blissfully gazing at each other.

 

Robert was the one who spoke first, his voice reverberating with emotion.

 

“Sarah, is this true? Have you…do you…”

 

“Yes,” replied Sarah, still gazing at Jareth as if he was the only thing in the universe that mattered.  She looked at her father, her eyes bright.  “I do! I love him! More than anything.”

 

Jareth looked at Robert then, speaking plainly.  “The enchantment that was placed upon me could only be broken if I could learn to love and if someone could learn to see past my cruelty and darkness and learn to love me in return.  Sarah taught me, and I taught her.”

 

Robert walked over to the pair and lifted their clasped hands, enclosing them in his own.

 

“Will you both forgive an old man’s foolishness and accept my blessing?  I feel that if there was such a pair that was destined through the ages to be truly happy together, it would be you two.”

 

Jareth smiled and nodded, while Sarah kissed her father’s cheek once more, elated.

 

The other men, once the mob, but now the witnesses to the ‘verse’s most perfect love, came forth to congratulate the couple and to apologize for the distress that had been caused and the havoc that had been wreaked upon the castle and its inhabitants.

 

_*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*_

A few hours later, once wounds had been healed and the townsmen of Bracknell Fen had been fed and directed to beds in which they might sleep for the night, a pair stood quietly together, illuminated by the silver moonlight as they gazed out over the dark expanse of the Labyrinth.  To a stranger passing by, they were a handsome couple; the man light and sharply-featured, and the woman beautiful, with a cascade of shiny dark hair.  More so than physical appearances, however, our hypothetical passerby would have been more awed by the love and devotion that seemed to radiate from the pair, love that the sands of time could never weaken nor dispel, for this love was ordained by the touch of destiny, written for eons in the stars.

 

The pair gently kissed, the moonlight gilding their features, making them look as if they were the corporeal incarnation of love.  And for all time, it would be the Goblin King and the radiant young woman named Sarah who brought down a kingdom and cured a stone heart, that would be remembered as two of the few beings on this earth to experience pure and undeniable love, the physical representation of the ancient phrase: _Amor vincit omnia._

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

The day dawned sunny and bright, a slight warm breeze ruffling the hair of the many people gathered on the great front lawn of the castle, all waiting in quiet anticipation. The roses in the garden bobbed softly up and down, wafting their heady fragrance in the breeze.

 

Robert sat between Karen and Toby, all three dressed in their Sunday best, joyful and full of happy expectation of what was to pass. 

 

Hoggle sat not far from the three Williamses, Sir Didymus and Ludo at his side, blowing his nose noisily on a hanky and dabbing at his eyes.

 

Other inhabitants of Bracknell Fen were there as well, curious to see the once-dreaded castle of the Goblin King.  The poor townsfolk were surprised once they had arrived on the other side of the Labyrinth, to see goblins shuffling about, hanging garlands, arranging chairs, and performing other small duties.  The goblins, most of whom had taken baths and had cleaned themselves up somewhat, were now sitting dispersed throughout the assembly, the models of perfect behavior.

 

A figure emerged from the Labyrinth, his steps slow and deliberate as he made his way over to where Jareth stood, some way off from the crowd of waiting people, dressed in his glittering armor.  The creature spoke quiet words to Jareth, who smiled and beckoned towards the space in front of the crowd, where the goblins had hung garlands of roses and vines.

 

The Wiseman patted Jareth’s shoulder and together they walked to the front of the crowd and stood under the canopy of flowers, turning to face the crowd, who stood and turned as well to look at the pale figure making her way down the rows of figures, her face obscured by a filmy veil, and a bouquet of Jareth’s beloved roses clutched in her trembling hands.

 

Sarah paused to smile tenderly at her family as she passed them before turning her attention to Jareth, who had not taken his eyes off of her since she had started to walk down the aisle.  She blushed under her veil, and walked to Jareth’s side, both turning as one to face the Wiseman, who had procured a very old and very worn-looking book. As they Wise Man spoke, the warm breeze blew gently through the gardens, carrying silken flower petals through the air.

 

It was a picturesque scene, watching two hearts become one.  True, their love had come about from unconventional occurrences and happenstances, trials and tribulations, but then again, the course of true love never did run smooth.  And as the sun moved its perpetual path across the cerulean sky, vows were exchanged and a kiss shared, sealing forever the fate of the eternal lovers, who were now fully equipped to create a happily ever after of their own. 

 

 

  

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

THE END

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

_“Tale as old as time,_

_Song as old as rhyme,_

_Beauty and the Beast"_

_-Disney’s "Beauty and the Beast"_

 

 

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

 

*Amor vincit omnia: love conquers all.

 

**2014 AN: I've left the original author notes from 2009 in this fic because I find them to be just a touch hilarious. Oh, 19 year-old me, you were so silly. Yes, this fic needs editing, but alas, no time to do it!**

**2009 AN: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and faved and added me to their watch lists, and to everyone who has helped me to write this fic!  I couldn’t have done this without all of your kind words and encouragement! Thank you to everyone who has recommended fics or book or movies or whatever to me, as I have enjoyed all of these recommendations! All in all, thank you so much!**

**I am sure that this won’t be my last fic!  I have a one-shot that I have been promising for some time, and I have another story bouncing around in my head that needs to be written! We’ll have to see what this summer brings!**

**And for those who enjoy this (I know I do!): so many references this chapter! Harry Potter and Shakespeare and Aladdin and Virgil and Tristan and Isolde and LOST (see you in another life brotha!) and Beauty and the Beast (obviously) and Phantom of the Opera and a touch of Firefly and Sailor Moon and so many things that I couldn’t possibly list them all!**

**Also, I’ve made Sarah’s headpiece from the ball scene in Labyrinth and uploaded images to DeviantArt (links in my profile), and I’ve made two more, which I have posted on Etsy for sale!  Check out the link to my Etsy account in my profile!**

 

**Anyways, please read and review!  I really makes my day!  Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed and added me to their various favorites and alerts lists!**

**Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.**

 

 

 

 


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